The Magical Bat Year I
by karanne
Summary: The first year of Mattie Wayne's magical education at Hogwarts.
1. Boston and the US

The Magical Bat.  
  
#include stdDisclaimer.h: Batman, Catwoman, Alfred, Babs, Dick, Lucius Fox, and the others, are DC Comic's toys. Hogwarts, Albus, Minerva, the Weasleys and the others in the Potterverse belong to the fabulous JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them, and they'll be put back later. Everyone else, they're mine. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.  
  
Copyright © 2004 Kara Anne Kalel karanne AT mindspring DOT com. All rights reserved. No money is made, and no infringement is implied or intended.  
  
This is a sequel to my story: The Bat & The Cat, redux.  
  
------------------------   
June 3, 1998 - Wayne Manor, Gotham City. Mattie:   
------------------------  
  
As we arrived home from Uncle Jim's funeral service, I said, "Okay, we're home. I want to see my letter from Massachusetts."  
  
Mom turned and looked into the back seat. "Honey, why don't you go get changed out of your dress into something comfortable, and we'll meet in the kitchen in a few minutes? I'd like to get out of these heels, myself."  
  
Dad chuckled. "Sounds like a plan." He pulled at his necktie, and parked the Rolls. I popped my seatbelt, and ran toward the door.  
  
------------------------  
  
After I changed out of my church clothes, I ran past Mom and Dad's room, and pelted down the stairs toward the kitchen. I burst through the door to the kitchen, and saw a large, hairy man sitting at the table. He turned and smiled at me, and I turned and bolted out the door, calling "MOM!" I met Mom and Dad halfway, and told them, "Mom! Dad! There's a strange man in the kitchen! He's HUGE!"  
  
Dad said, "CAVE! NOW! We'll handle this!" I ran into the library, opened the clock, and ran into the cave. I ran into the control room, and slapped the emergency lock. Putting on a headset, I logged into the security cameras, and dialed in the kitchen. I saw Dad confronting a huge, bearded man in a ratty fur coat with a battle-ax.  
  
The man appeared calm. Mom glanced at the status panel, and told the air, "Kyle, emergency lockdown alpha three." Steel slammed shut over the doors and windows. He blinked, and shifted in the kitchen chair, making it creak. He moved his hand toward his coat, and Dad moved the pike on the ax to his throat. "Open your coat VERY slowly, and pull it out SLOWLY, my friend." He did, and pulled out a wooden stick. Mom said, "Computer, Kyle, set code six. Throw me the wand, mister." There was a sparkle on the doors and windows, and he tossed it to her. She slid it in the waistband of her panties, and said, "Who are you, and what do you want?" I played with the joystick, and put a laser sight on his forehead.  
  
"Par' me. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He grinned, and said, "I've also the honor ta be th' Care of Magical Creatures per'fessor. I've got a letter here for a ..." he started to reach into his cloak again, and Bruce moved the ax.  
  
"It's such a warm day, Mr. Hagrid. Why don't you take your coat off, and toss it over here?" Mom asked, taking his wand in her left hand, and waving it, causing sparks to come out of it. She shoved it back in her waistband as Hagrid blinked.  
  
"How di' a Muggle ...? He shook his head, then slowly stood, and shucked out of the coat, laying it on the floor, then slowly resuming his seat. Dad circled behind Mom as she kept the shotgun trained on Hagrid. He nodded at Dad, "Envelope in top pocket, addressed to a Miss Helena Martha Wayne, Wayne Manor, Gotham." He chuckled, and mentioned, "When the usual methods don't work, I get called to hand deliver the letters."  
  
"So that's why the Salem Institute's letter got through, but yours didn't? Because we changed the defenses against magic?" Mom asked.  
  
"How di' ye Muggles know about magic?" Hagrid asked.  
  
"We have our ways, Mr. Hagrid," Mom said. Dad inhaled, then took his battle- ax, and pressed the tip under Hagrid's chin. Mom looked at Dad, and he said, "Look at the envelope's address." Mom moved to pick it up, and I saw the address had changed to:  
  
Miss Helena Martha Wayne   
Batcave Control Room   
Monitor station #1   
Gotham City, USA  
  
"So, Mr. Hagrid. What address did you have?" Mom asked again.  
  
"Wayne Manor, Gotham. Jus' what's on the envelope," he said, confused. "Why, don't she live here?"  
  
"She does." Mom glanced at Dad, and then said, "Kyle, release lockdown alpha three. Mattie, stay there until we call you."  
  
"Yes, Mom. You two ok?" I replied.  
  
Bruce answered, "For now. Stay there." He addressed Hagrid, "Mr. Hagrid, I hope you'll excuse us for a minute, but we need to get dressed. Please stay here. Mattie, monitor."  
  
"Yes, Dad."  
  
------------------------  
  
Mom and Dad reappeared in the kitchen. She smiled, and offered her hand, saying, "I hope you'll forgive us, Mr. Hagrid. People in our ... situation have to have defenses against all sorts of things." She offered him his wand back.  
  
He took it back with a smile, "Thank ye. Bit of an attachment to this, I have. I'm sure ye've got questions, and I've got a couple meself." He still hadn't noticed the tranquilizer sight on his forehead. My hand sweated on the trigger.  
  
Mom replied, "I'm sure. However, would you like some coffee or tea? I assure you, we don't usually hold shotguns on people."  
  
"A spot of tea would be lovely, thank ye. I'd like to know how ye know about magic folk, meself." He shifted, and the chair creaked.  
  
"We have had ... dealings with magical people before. Both good and bad," Dad said. "Mattie, if you have questions, speak up, but stay there for now."  
  
"Yes, Dad."  
  
"Mr. Hagrid, any preference on the tea?" Mom asked.  
  
"Jus' Hagrid, 'tis. Ceylon, if ye have it." Mom nodded, put it in the teaball to steep, and added a splash of milk in the British fashion. She handed the mug to him, and sipped at hers.  
  
"Ah, thank ye." Hagrid sighed, then said, "Information in the letter, there. Th' Ministry is holdin' a meetin' for the Muggle parents and students in London on the weekend o' the 20th, which happens to be the end of term. Normally, I'da waited until after term, but since I had to travel to the Colonies anyway..." He grunted and continued, "I know yer daughter is only ten, so she's a year early, but that's a good thing, 'tis. Means she's likely an 'ceptionally powerful witch."  
  
"Cool. That means we can go to Boston next week, then to London the week after that," I said.  
  
"Maybe. Remember, we said we'd discuss this." Mom told the air. "Mr. Hagrid, I presume there's some method of contacting you if we have questions?"  
  
"There's a muggle mail address in there, as well as one'a' them fellytone things." He took a gulp of tea, and added, "Le' them know when you'll be in London, and someone'll meet 'ya. Accounts set up with Gringotts an' all fer school supplies." With another gulp, he finished his tea, and stood, his head brushing the ceiling. "'Preciate the tea. Sorry we got off to tha' wrong start'n all. Hope ta' see yer daughter on th' school train September first." He took Dad's hand and shook it, then took Mom's in his enormous hands, nodding his head politely. Scooping up his coat from the floor, he tried to open the door, only to find it still locked.  
  
"Wayne. Release door twenty-two." Dad told the air. With a series of snicks, the door unlocked. I changed cameras to watch, and saw Hagrid shrug into his coat again, then mount a large black motorcycle. With a roar, it took to the air, and he vanished from sight.  
  
------------------------  
  
I safed the weapons, and grabbed the Massachusetts letter from Dad's workbench, running upstairs and into their hugs.  
  
"Good job, Mattie." Mom said. "You did everything right." She gave me another hug, and then said, "I don't know about you two, but I could use another cup of tea."  
  
------------------------   
Boston: Salem Institute of Witchcraft   
------------------------  
  
In a somewhat run-down shopping mall, we entered through a door marked 'Maintenance', and found an assortment of mops and brooms. Dad looked at the instructions, shrugged, and said, "Twist the third white hook from the left 180 degrees." With a twist, the floor started to drop, and stopped about thirty feet down. The hook snapped back, and we got off onto a carpeted hallway. The broom closet vanished behind us.  
  
A brunette said, "Hello! Welcome to the Salem Institute. I'm Martha Givens, and you are?"  
  
"We're the Waynes', and this is our daughter Mattie."  
  
A calculating look entered into her eyes. "Yes, let's go take a little tour, and then we can talk." She turned and walked off, and I whispered, "Mom, I have a bad feeling about this place."  
  
------------------------   
Boston: Ritz-Carlton Hotel   
------------------------  
  
"All right, let's talk about Salem," Dad said.  
  
"My impression from the headmistress was that all she was interested in was gold," Mom said. "Also, for being in existence for five hundred years, you would think the library would be larger than it was."  
  
"I agree. Mattie?" asked Dad.  
  
"I'd like to go to a co-ed school. All I saw were girls, and did you notice that Dad had to go in a separate entrance? That bothered me. At least the shopping was ok, and I got a real magic wand!" I drew it from the holster on my left forearm and waved it, shooting sparks from it.  
  
"I didn't like the fact that the shopping was associated with the school," Mom noted. "I would have preferred to see independent merchants."  
  
"Well, at the very least, Boston is not that far from Gotham. You could come home on holidays, Mattie," Dad observed. "We'll keep Salem as an option. London and Hogwarts next."   
------------------------   
1 - Gotham and the US   
------------------------ 


	2. London and the UK

------------------------  
  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
  
------------------------   
2 - London and the UK   
------------------------  
  
------------------------   
Thursday, June 18, 1998:   
London: Grosvenor House Hotel   
------------------------  
  
"It's been a while since I've stayed here," Dad said, after tipping the bellhop. "We'll get a nap to take care of the jet lag, then go to dinner. Tomorrow's Friday, I've got meetings I must go to, while Mattie, you and your mother can go to that school meeting."  
  
I yawned, while Mom said, "That sound good with you, Mattie?" I nodded, and yawned again while Mom dug out the information Hagrid had left us, and dialed the phone.  
  
------------------------   
Friday, June 19, 1998:   
London: Ministry of Magic, Department of Education, Muggle Relatives Office  
------------------------  
  
"Y'sure abou' that address, Miss?" the cabbie asked.  
  
Mom checked her sheet, then said, "Blumfields at 1701 Charing Cross, right?"  
  
"'E ye are, then, Miss. Be ten and five. I'll wait if ye want a ride back to Grosvenor House."  
  
"Thank you, but we'll be fine. Have a nice day." Mom handed him a twenty- pound note.  
  
"A department store that says, 'Closed for remodeling', Mom? That's the address for the Ministry of Magic?"  
  
"That's what they said." She shook her head, and added, "Let's see what happens, shall we?" She took a breath and my hand; then opened the door.  
  
------------------------  
  
"'Allo! What can we do ye today?" a chirpy blonde in a green robe asked.  
  
"We've got an appointment with a Mr. Carlson about ... Hogwarts?" Mom replied.  
  
"May I see your letter?" Mom extracted it, checked that it didn't have the Cave address, and passed it over. The blonde looked at it, then passed it back, saying, "Yanks, eh? Mr. Carlson owled in sick today. Mrs. Michaels is takin' it instead. We've got a meetin' of other relatives in about ten minutes, if you'd care to join them. Tea and bix are in the room, which is down that hall and to the right. Loo is further down and to the left if you need it."  
  
Mom stopped at the meeting room, I motioned down the hall, and she nodded and went in. I proceeded down the hall, which turned out to be a fairly worn, tiled, ordinary bathroom. Slightly disappointed, I rejoined Mom.  
  
"Anything unusual?" Mom whispered. I shook my head, and Mom passed me a folder of information she had picked up. I opened it, and saw the now usual moving pictures, and started to read.  
  
------------------------  
  
"Good morning!" A middle-aged woman with yellow colored robes and an elaborate hair plait was standing in front of us. There were half a dozen families in the room, and as she looked us over, I looked at her. She smiled, and said, "I am Dorothea Michaels, from the Muggle Relatives Office of the Ministry's Department of Education. You're here because your son or daughter has gotten a Hogwarts letter, offering them an education in magic."  
  
"Now, the first questions people usually ask are either, one, 'Is magic real?' Or two, 'What is a muggle?' Let me demonstrate. You, Mr. ....?"  
  
"Adams, and my son Charles."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Adams. I notice you've a teacup. Finished?" He nodded, and she continued, "Please drop it on the floor, so it breaks." He looked at her, and she motioned. With a shrug, he tossed it on the floor, where it broke with a crash. Mrs. Michaels pointed her wand at it, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa". It rose to hover, and Mrs. Michaels said, "Well, we can see it's broken. Not much good that way, is it?" With a smile, and a muttered, "Reparo!" a whole teacup was in her hand, which she passed back to Mr. Adams.  
  
"What I've just shown you is very basic magic. Your children will learn this and much more, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hogwarts has been in existence for well over a thousand years, teaching magic to young witches and wizards. Your children." She paced a bit, and added, "This brings up the second question, 'What is a Muggle?' A muggle is a non- magic person, or someone that's grown up without magic. We've hidden ourselves from muggles since 1692, and taken steps to make sure muggles have no information about the Wizarding World. However, with your son or daughter a magic user, we must let you know about this. We trust that you'll keep the secret, for your children's sake."  
  
"Any questions? No? Onward then." She sat on a table, and said, "Currency. The wizarding world uses Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle, seventeen sickles to a galleon. Each galleon is worth about five pounds in muggle money. We'll be stopping by Gringotts bank so you can set up accounts for your children's school supplies, as well as doing some shopping."  
  
Mom raised her hand, and asked, "We set up an account in New York with Gringotts. How do we transfer it to London?"  
  
"Shouldn't be a problem. Gringotts is the only bank in the wizarding world. You have your key and statement?" Mom nodded, and pulled out the little cloth bag she had gotten. I checked to see if I still had mine, and waved it. Mrs. Michaels paled a bit, and then said, "Yes, well. Just show those to the goblins at Gringotts, and they'll take care of you."  
  
Someone else asked, "How do we write our children?"  
  
"Ah," Mrs. Michaels said, recovering herself. "You've all gotten owls with the letters. If you ask the owl, they will wait for a reply to your son or daughter. You can also send muggle post to a box the Ministry uses, which will then be forwarded by owl to your student at Hogwarts. When you're picking up your supplies, make sure to pick up a few Howlers. They're the red envelopes, and are used when you want to speak ... firmly ... with your child about their misbehaving." There was a general chuckle at that, and she smiled, and said, "Of course, YOUR child never misbehaves." There were even more laughs at that.  
  
"Now then, about overseas letters. Mrs....?"  
  
"Wayne."  
  
"Yes, Mrs. Wayne. You can write to a box the American Ministry uses, which will then be forwarded to London, and on to Hogwarts. However, there's another method that's just being implemented, called, I believe, pmail?"  
  
Mom asked, "Do you mean e-mail? Electronic mail? Yes, we have that."  
  
"Oh, good." Mrs. Michaels made a note, and said, "We'll set up your daughter with a mmail address when she gets to Hogwarts. If the rest of you are interested, we can do the same, although it does seem to require a device called a compulator."  
  
"I think you mean a computer," Mr. Adams said.  
  
"Yes, well. Are there any more questions? No? Good. Next stop is a pub called the Leaky Cauldron, and then on to the shops of Diagon Alley. Follow me, please."  
  
The chirpy blonde rushed in, and breathlessly said, "You-know-who's at 'Ogwarts! Just heard it on the Wireless!" She seemed very nervous about this, and had her wand in her hand.  
  
"Oh, my! Floo Mr. Carlson right away and then let the parents of our muggleborn students know to hide. Hurry!" The blonde rushed out, and Mrs. Michaels closed the door, pointing her wand at it, and muttering "Colloportus!"  
  
"What is going on, and who is this 'You-know-who' bloke?" Mr. Adams demanded.  
  
"Well, first I need to give you a little history," Mrs. Michaels said nervously. "About fifty years ago, a Dark Wizard appeared, who had two stated goals, immortality, and what he called 'purity of blood'. That meant elimination of anyone who wasn't a pureblood wizard." She swallowed nervously, and continued, "He instituted a reign of terror, using his followers, who are known as 'Death Eaters', who tortured and killed anyone who got in their way. They made a point of looking for what they called 'mudbloods', which is an insult meaning 'dirty blood', and refers to muggleborn witches and wizards."  
  
"Sounds a bit like Hitler," Mom said. Other people nodded, and she asked, "What was his name?"  
  
"People are afraid to speak it, so they just call him 'You-know-who', but his name is ..." she swallowed nervously, then forced out "V... Voldemort!"  
  
"And he is attacking this school that you want us to send our children to? Are you daft?" Mr. Adams shouted.  
  
"MY DAUGHTER'S THERE!" Mrs. Michaels shouted. She collapsed into a chair, and started to cry. There was a pounding on the door, then a call of 'Alohomora' and it swung in. Mrs. Michaels was on her feet, red-eyed but with her wand out and pointed, but then she relaxed a bit. "Oh! Everyone, this is Secretary of Education Percy Weasley."  
  
The tall redheaded man asked, "Mrs. Michaels, is there something wrong?"  
  
"You-know-who's at Hogwarts!"  
  
For some reason, this didn't trouble Mr. Weasley. "I'm sure it's just a rumor. You know how these journalists are, if they don't have any news they make something up. After all, he hasn't been seen now for months and months."  
  
"And do you have any relatives there, Mr. Weasley?" Mr. Adams inquired coldly.  
  
"My youngest brother and sister are there," he replied, with an air of dismissal. "Now, there's no reason to panic. After all, we haven't had any news that you-know-who's still alive, after all."  
  
"You're a bloody git, Weasley! Dumbledore's seen him! Potter's seen him! They both fought him at the Ministry! Don't you remember two years ago? Even that bloody head-in-the-sand idiot Fudge has seen him! He's attacking Hogwarts, and all I can do is worry," Mrs. Michaels moaned, sinking back into her chair.  
  
"Now, Mrs. Michaels, you're forgetting yourself. I'm sure the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will dispatch someone to investigate and file a report. That will put an end to these rumors," Weasley sniffed.  
  
I glanced at Mom, and then ran toward Mr. Weasley, hugging him around the legs, and saying, "Oh, thank you, Mr. Weasley!" He teetered, and Mom caught him, and touched his neck, causing him to collapse like a sack of potatoes.  
  
"What did you do? You don't have a wand ..." Mrs. Michaels asked.  
  
"Mattie does, we picked one up for her in Boston." I waved it, and Mom continued, "With this idiot, though, it was just a nerve touch. He'll be out for about half an hour. Who's Fudge?"  
  
"Well, grab his wand. That's the first thing you do when you're dueling," Mrs. Michaels said. "Fudge is the Minister of Magic, and he's a political idiot that doesn't believe something unless it's right in front of his nose. Even then ..." she sighed, and said, "I'm going to teach you a quick spell, dear." I found his wand, and tossed it to Mom, then pointed my wand at Mr. Weasley. "Ready, dear? All right, aim at his chest and say 'Stupefy', and a red light should come from your wand."  
  
"Stupefy!" I said, then "Cool! How long will he be out?"  
  
"It depends on how powerful a wizard he is, anywhere from a couple of seconds to hours. Now, another spell is 'Silencio', which will keep him quiet. Let me tie him up, first." Mrs. Michaels pointed her wand, and said, "Incarcerous!" Ropes shot out of her wand, wrapping tightly around Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Can I try one?" Charlie Adams asked.  
  
"Certainly, but I must tell you, you shouldn't stun someone too often. Also, your wand connects to your magic. If you use someone else's, it won't work as well. Pass his wand over, and try 'Silencio' on the twit, dearie."  
  
Mom passed the wand over, and the boy stood, and called "Silencio!"  
  
"Excellent! Now, where were we? Ah, yes. I mentioned that my daughter was at Hogwarts. She's a fourth-year in Hufflepuff. Now, Hogwarts has four houses that students are sorted into. They're like an extended family. They are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Gryffindor, and are named after the four Founders of Hogwarts." Mrs. Michaels took a breath, then said, "The reasons we let Abigail continue there are the magical defenses there are the strongest in Britain, the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, is regarded as the most powerful wizard in the world, and Harry Potter's there."  
  
"Who's Harry Potter?" Mr. Adams asked.  
  
Mrs. Michaels took a seat on the table again, and continued, "He's known as 'The boy who lived', and is already an exceptionally powerful wizard. He's a seventh-year Gryffindor at Hogwarts, and he may be almost as powerful as Dumbledore. A witch or wizard doesn't reach his full magical strength until they're thirty to forty years old, and Potter's only eighteen. He's the only known survivor of the Killing Curse, and the subject of a prophecy that he's the only one that can defeat you-know-who." She smiled, and added, "From what Abi says, he's fairly shy, but he's been running a club called the DA. It stands for the 'Defense Association', and she's been in it since her second year, when the Ministry appointed a horrid sycophant to the DADA position." She shook her head, and said, "Sorry. DADA is Defense Against the Dark Arts, where students learn to protect themselves. Abi dueled against my husband and I over the Christmas hols, and defeated us both quite handily. I'm just hoping they have a competent professor next year. Professor Lupin's been teaching it, but he resigned. It has the reputation of a jinxed position."  
  
"What is this 'Killing Curse' you mentioned?"  
  
"There are three curses, known as the 'Unforgivables', which will earn you a lifetime stay in Azkaban prison," she said, and shuddered. "You-know- who's people use all of them. They are the Imperious curse, which forces control over another person, the Cruciatus, which causes horrible pain, and the Killing curse, which kills without leaving a mark. There's no way to block it, and no way to stop it, and only one recorded survivor."  
  
"This Potter fellow," Mr. Adams said.  
  
Mrs. Michaels nodded. "Harry Potter. He was barely a year old, but the rebound killed the Dark Lord, and left Harry with a curse scar on his forehead. You-know-who's been attacking Harry ever since he reincarnated, and Harry has defeated him every year. What's more, he's taught other students what he's learned, without regard for which house they were in. Even Slytherins."  
  
"Why do you say that?" I asked.  
  
"Slytherins have the unfortunate reputation of being a Dark House, possibly because that's what you-know-who was in. They're no Darker than any other house, and I have several friends from Slytherin, like Amanda. She's the blonde out front in the green robes. There are the usual house rivalries over things like Quidditch, and people will pull pranks on different houses, but that's all in good fun."  
  
"So what's Quidditch?" Mom asked.  
  
"Oi, just the greatest game!" Amanda said from the doorway. "No news yet," she added.  
  
"Amanda, did you know Harry?" Mrs. Michaels asked.  
  
"Oh, yes, I saw Harry in the DA meetings last year. Once, he out-dueled four of us seventh-years at once, then revived us and taught us how he did it. He's a sweet guy, and he's cute, too." She sighed, and said, "He's got a girlfriend, unfortunately. Ginny Weasley, the little sister of that prat." She motioned to the still-sleeping Percy Weasley. "She's ever so nice, even for a Gryffindor. Anyway, Quidditch is the wizarding sport. Seven people on brooms, three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper that guards the goalposts, and a Seeker. The Chasers try to score goals with the Quaffle, the Beaters try to keep the Bludgers from hitting their mates, and the Seeker looks for the snitch, which is worth 150 points and usually wins the game. The game continues until the snitch is found, however long it takes."  
  
"Wasn't there one game in 1884 that ran several months?" Mrs. Michaels said. "Amanda, would you be a dear and pop over to the Alley? I'm wondering if it's safe to take these people there, and could you pick up a few copies of the Prophet? We'll see what the news is." With a nod and a 'crack', Amanda disappeared.  
  
------------------------  
  
"There's nobody in the Alley!" Amanda reported breathlessly. "I nicked copies of the Prophet, all that were left. Florean's Ice Cream and Quality Quidditch are closed, both Apothecaries, and the Wheeze has a big sign in the window – 'Gone to fight the Dark Tosser. Join us in Hogsmeade.' The only one open is Gringotts, and they have about a hundred guards outside."  
  
"Well, we could at least get your accounts done today," Mrs. Michaels thought. "Amanda, do you mind coming in tomorrow? I know it's a Saturday, but..."  
  
"Where are we going?" Mr. Adams asked.  
  
"Just down a few doors to a pub called 'The Leaky Cauldron'. We go through there to get to Diagon Alley, where you get your school supplies and do your shopping. Well, normally, that is. Today, well, we'll see how things are, and give it a go tomorrow. Is everyone right up with that? Mrs. Wayne, you don't need to go back to the Colonies tomorrow, do you?"  
  
"It's been the 'United States' for 222 years now," Mom said mildly. The other families chuckled as she added, "Not the 'Colonies', as I'm sure you learned in History. However, we're good for tomorrow, thank you."  
  
Mrs. Michaels asked, "Did Professor Binns mention anything about that?" Amanda shook her head.  
  
------------------------  
  
"Right-O. Here we are. If you need access to the Alley and we're not here, just ask Tom, the owner, and he'll let you in." She pulled on the door, and Mom and I followed the others into a small, dark and smoky pub.  
  
"'Allo, Tom! What news?"  
  
A bald, toothless old man said, "Oi, Dot. They're pushin' the bloody buggers back, last I heard. Wish I could help, but Dumbledore wanted me here. They want to keep them Dark wizards inside the wards, so they can't escape this time. O' we got here?"  
  
"New muggleborn students and their parents. Everyone, this is Tom, the proprietor. He's been running the Cauldron for ... how long?"  
  
"'Undred fifteen years, this August. You'll be wantin' the Alley, then? Don' know why, everyone's off to Hogsmeade now."  
  
"Gringotts is open, Tom. We can at least get the accounts settled, and they can come back tomorrow to shop."  
  
Tom grunted at this, and waved for us to follow. In a small brick courtyard with trash bins, he said, "'Ere we go. Tap the bricks wi' your wand, and 'ave a nice day. Closes after ye go through." He shuffled off.  
  
"Right then. Two up, three across, and ..." the bricks started to spin in place, reforming themselves into an arched doorway. We pushed through into a small street, lined with shops on both sides. With a rustling sound, the bricks reformed behind us into a wall. Mrs. Michaels smiled, and said, "Come along now, and welcome to Diagon Alley. It would normally be full of people, but it seems most of them have gone off to Hogsmeade to fight you- know-who." Indeed, there were signs to that effect in several shop windows.  
  
"What is Hogsmeade?" someone asked.  
  
"Hogsmeade is the only wizarding village in Great Britain. It's located in Scotland, and it's where the Hogwarts school train from King's Cross arrives. The school is a ten-minute walk from the station, although the students will have carriages to take them."  
  
"Except the firsties!" Amanda said. "You get to cross the lake with Hagrid, and then you're Sorted!"  
  
Mrs. Michaels smiled, "Every school has traditions, and this is one of Hogwarts'. The first years cross a lake in small boats ..."  
  
"Do we have to row?" a girl asked.  
  
"No, dear. It's magic, remember? In any case, don't worry about falling in. There's a giant squid in the lake, he'll pluck you right out, and Hagrid will be with you."  
  
"Oh, I remember Hagrid!" I said.  
  
"Oi, Hagrid's a puffskein, but careful in his classes. Some of the things he considers cuddly..." Amanda said with a shudder. "Ask him about Fluffy..."  
  
Mrs. Michaels looked at her, so Amanda expanded, "Fluffy was a three headed dog he picked up in a pub. Each of Fluffy's heads was ten feet across, and he drooled."  
  
"Well, that ... Oh, my. What's that?" one mother asked, pointing in a pet shop. "It's beautiful."  
  
"It's a phoenix. They're very rare. I wonder if this is Dumbledore's?" Amanda said, as we moved closer. With a burst of flame, it vanished, then reappeared in another burst of flame on Mom's shoulder. It trilled a song to her, and an expression of rapture appeared on her face. It turned to look at me, then trilled something else, and a feather floated loose. With another bit of song, and another burst of flame, it was gone.  
  
"Grab that feather!" Mrs. Michaels told me. I fumbled, and then grabbed it. It was warm to the touch. I asked, "Mom?"  
  
"Yes, honey?" She shook herself, and then said, "Oh, Diagon Alley. Shall we move on?"  
  
As we walked, Amanda pointed out 'the Wheeze', as she called it, a joke shop. A large banner with a smiling face said 'I get my BANGS at the Wheeze!' Amanda added, "One word of advice about the twins' shop," she said with a grin. "Don't eat anything."  
  
------------------------  
  
I only counted twenty guards outside Gringotts. We started to go in, and one said, "Halt! Vault owners only!"  
  
"We have accounts," Mom said, as she waved the little bags under his sharp nose. He paled, and she continued, "However, we'll close them if we don't go in with our friends. They wish to open accounts now."  
  
The goblin spat something at a guard, who ran inside. They reformed ranks, and with dropped jaws on Amanda and Mrs. Michaels' faces, we walked inside.  
  
------------------------  
  
"I've never seen the goblins here so ... obsequious." Mrs. Michaels said.  
  
"Oi, what news from 'Ogwarts?" Amanda asked the goblin. "I've got friends there."  
  
The goblin snapped his fingers, and an underling appeared. He disappeared, and reappeared with a constantly updating scroll.   
  
Hogwarts Quidditch teams continue to engage Death Eaters   
  
Current casualty count:   
Hogwarts: 1 dead (R. Hooch), 4 serious injuries, 0 captured.   
Death Eaters: 3 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.), 5 serious injuries, 22 captured.   
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 3 serious injuries, 3 captured.   
  
Hogwarts H. Potter still engaged with T. Riddle (duration: 3 hr. 43 min.)   
Hogwarts D. Malfoy killed by Death Eater L. Malfoy (Cruciatus, AK)   
Hogwarts N. Longbottom, B. Zabini capture Death Eater B. Lestrange

"Cor Blimey, way to go!" Amanda said. "That's me 'ousemate, there, Blaise Zabini! I knew she could do it! An' Draco killed by 'is da, yet!"

Hogwarts S. Bones, N. Longbottom, B. Zabini capture Death Eater A. Zabini

"Ooh, poor Blaise, her own pa!"

Hogwarts Al. Dumbledore revived, still with minor injuries, returns to engagement

"Dumbledore's back in it now! This is like listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless!" Amanda commented.  
  
"Who's Riddle, and what's an AK?" I asked.  
  
"Riddle is you-know-who's birth name, 'e's the one Potter's mixing it up with. An' the AK is the Killing Curse. Bastard Malfoy tortured his son with the Cruciatus before killing him."

Hogsmeade Ab. Dumbledore rescues F. Weasley; G. Weasley, L. Jordan (injured)

"Those are the twins that run the joke shop! With their mate Lee, too!"

Current casualty count:   
Hogwarts: 2 dead (R. Hooch, D. Malfoy), 3 serious injuries, 0 captured.   
Death Eaters: 3 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.), 7 serious injuries, 23 captured.  
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 4 serious injuries, 0 captured.

Hogwarts H. Potter still engaged with T. Riddle (duration: 3 hr. 55 min.)   
Hogwarts Al. Dumbledore engages T. Riddle (duration: 5 min.)   
  
Hogwarts P. Parkinson Jr., M. Bulstrode capture Death Eater P. Parkinson Sr.

"Pansy and Millie teaming up? They hate each other, and they're with Dumbledore?"

Hogwarts P. Parkinson Jr., M. Bulstrode capture Death Eater V. Crabbe Jr.

Current casualty count:   
Hogwarts: 2 dead (R. Hooch, D. Malfoy), 5 serious injuries, 0 captured.   
Death Eaters: 3 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.), 7 serious injuries, 27 captured.  
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 6 serious injuries, 0 captured.

Hogwarts H. Potter still engaged with T. Riddle (duration: 4 hr. 7 min.)   
Hogwarts Al. Dumbledore still engaged with T. Riddle (duration: 17 min.)

Hogsmeade A. Moody capture Death Eater V. Crabbe Sr.   
Hogwarts R. Lupin (injured) capture Death Eater L. Malfoy (injured)

Hogwarts H. Potter kills T. Riddle (duration: 4 hours 12 min.)

Amanda let out a scream. "Harry's done it! He's killed you-know-who!" Pandemonium erupted as someone shouted, "The Death Eaters are finished!" I returned to watching the scroll.

Hogwarts G. Weasley, H. Granger capture Death Eater R. Lestrange

"That's Harry's girlfriend and best mate captured tha' Death Eater!" Amanda said.

Hogsmeade A. Weasley, M. Weasley capture Death Eater W. Macnair

Current casualty count:   
Hogwarts: 2 dead (R. Hooch, D. Malfoy), 3 serious injuries, 0 captured.   
Death Eaters: 4 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.; T. Riddle), 7 serious injuries, 31 captured.  
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 5 serious injuries, 0 captured.

Hogwarts Quidditch teams pursue fleeing Death Eaters into Forbidden Forest

Fleeing Death Eaters blocked by Giants & Centaurs, surrender to Quidditch teams

Current casualty count:   
Hogwarts: 2 dead (R. Hooch, D. Malfoy), 2 serious injuries, 0 captured.   
Death Eaters: 4 dead (G. Goyle Sr.; G. Goyle Jr.; T. Nott Sr.; T. Riddle), 7 serious injuries, 54 captured.   
Hogsmeade: 2 dead (Rosmerta; Samuals), 4 serious injuries, 0 captured.

Conflict ends, duration:   
9 hours, 31 minutes

I asked a goblin, "Is there any way I can get a copy of this?"  
  
"Of course." He tapped the scroll, and muttered something, then handed it to me.  
  
"Thank you." The goblin blinked, then smiled and nodded.  
  
------------------------   
Friday, June 19, 1998:   
London: Grosvenor House Hotel   
------------------------  
  
"Well, that was an eventful day," Mom said as we closed the door to the hotel suite. "Can I see that thing you and Amanda were so involved with?"  
  
"Sure, mom. The goblins gave it to us; it's a play-by-play of the fight at Hogwarts. All nine and a half hours of it."  
  
Dad came out of a bedroom, and said, "You two seem to have had an interesting day. Why don't you both get changed, we can get dinner, and you can tell me about it?"  
  
------------------------  
  
"What's that?" Dad asked, seeing the bird standing on the suite's end table.  
  
"It's a phoenix, Dad. Maybe it's the same one that gave me a feather." The bird trilled, and with a flash of fire, popped into place on his shoulder, where it sang to him. With another pop, it returned to the table, where it offered me a rolled parchment.  
  
_Dear Miss Wayne (and parents),  
  
This is Fawkes, and he is a friend of mine. I would like to offer the three of you a chance to visit Hogwarts tomorrow (Saturday). He believes that it may be advantageous to the three of you, and would allow you to visit with staff and current students before making your decision regarding your magical education. I concur with his beliefs.  
  
You may have heard of a minor disagreement that was thrashed out here today. Please be reassured that, with two unfortunate exceptions, all students and faculty are safe, as is the school itself. If you are interested, please be ready at eight o'clock tomorrow morning.  
  
If you have other plans for tomorrow, I completely understand. If you would like to come, please reply to this note with Fawkes, who is a most reliable and secure messenger.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Albus Dumbledore   
Headmaster, Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
_  
"If we're going, we ought to let Amanda and Mrs. Michaels know," Mom said. "Fawkes, can you take a note to them, please?" Fawkes chirruped, and she said, "I guess that's yes."  
  
"I for one would like to see this place," Dad said. "From the note, the headmaster seems to think you're someone special, Mattie." He ruffled my hair, and added, "Not that we disagree."  
  
"You write the headmaster to tell him we accept, and I'll write Amanda and Mrs. Michaels," Mom said. "You don't mind, do you, Fawkes?" He chirruped again, and Mom passed me a sheet of hotel stationary.  
  
_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,  
  
My parents and I will be happy to join you tomorrow. We shall be ready at eight. Please let us know if there is anything we need to bring.  
  
Sincerely, Helena Martha (Mattie) Wayne (and parents)_  
  
I folded it into a hotel envelope, and wrote _Headmaster Dumbledore, Hogwarts_ on the front. Mom handed me her envelope, and I gave them both to Fawkes, telling him, "Thank you." He trilled again, and vanished with a burst of flame.  
  
"I wonder why he doesn't set off the sprinklers," Dad mused.  
  
A few minutes later, Dad called, "Mattie! Fawkes is back, and he's got a note for you!" I gargled and spat out the mouthwash, then called, "Coming, Dad!"  
  
The headmaster had simply added a note to the bottom of mine:  
  
_Miss Wayne,  
  
Your wits are all that is required (although you might wish to bring your wand). I am looking forward to meeting the three of you.  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
_  
------------------------   
Saturday, June 20, 1998:   
London: Grosvenor House Hotel   
------------------------  
  
At five minutes to eight, Fawkes reappeared, with a note and a garish sock. The note read:  
  
_Miss Wayne (and parents),  
  
The sock is a magically enchanted traveling device called a portkey. It will activate at precisely eight o'clock. Please be touching it at that time. You will feel a tug behind your navel. Most people seem to lose their balance upon arrival, please be prepared.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
_  
I looked at Mom and Dad, and we all touched the sock. As the clock ticked eight, it activated.


	3. Hogwarts and Scotland

------------------------

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

------------------------

3 - Hogwarts and Scotland

------------------------

------------------------

****

Saturday, June 20, 1998:   
Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's office

------------------------

We appeared in a circular office, filled with paintings on the wall, and an assortment of small silver devices that moved and chimed. An old man with white, waist-length hair and beard called from an armchair next to the fire, "Ah, good morning, good morning! How good to see you all! You must be the Waynes. I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster. Please forgive my not getting up. My foot was hexed off yesterday, and I'm having it regrown." He waved a wand, and more chairs appeared.

Dad stepped forward to shake hands, and said, "Good to meet you, Mr. Dumbledore. I'm Bruce Wayne. I'd like you to meet my wife Selina and daughter Mattie."

Mom shook his hand, and asked, "How long will you be laid up?"

Mr. Dumbledore dismissed it. "Oh, a day or so. Merely an inconvenience. Our school nurse has dealt with much more serious matters." He waved at the other people in the room, and added, "Allow me to introduce some of my staff, and the heads of our four houses." He indicated a severe looking woman with her hair in a tight bun. "First, we have Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and our Transfiguration professor, who is also head of Gryffindor house. Next to her, Professor Filius Flitwick, Charms instructor and head of Ravenclaw house." He moved on from the tiny professor to a chubby witch. "Next, we have Pomona Sprout, Herbology professor and head of Hufflepuff house. The young lady on the couch next to her is Miss Virginia Weasley, who is our head girl for the upcoming year." He last motioned to a lanky fellow in black with greasy hair, and added, "Last, but certainly not least, is our Severus Snape, Potions Master and head of Slytherin house." He smiled, and added, "Now then, while we entertain your parents Miss Wayne, why don't you join Miss Weasley, and have her give you a tour of the grounds? As we had to postpone our end of term Leaving Feast yesterday, all of you are of course welcome to join us tonight for dinner."

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Dumbledore," Dad said with a smile. "Please assume that I've made all the usual dire, bloodthirsty threats about harm to my little girl."

Mr. Dumbledore chuckled, and said, "Duly noted. Miss Weasley, please be sure to mention the moving staircases and such, won't you? Hmm. Well, then, off with you."

As we left, I heard Mr. Dumbledore say, "Now, I understand that Fawkes … " I chuckled and shook my head. "A bit … um, how should I say this?" I asked her as we rode down a moving staircase.

"Daft? Barmy? A crazy old man?" Miss Weasley chuckled, and added, "They've all been said about Professor Dumbledore. I'm Ginny, by the way."

"Mattie Wayne. What was that about socks?"

Ginny giggled. "Both Professor Dumbledore and Dobby, who's Harry's House-elf, are crazy about socks. The pair he had was a gift from my brothers a few years ago. They're charmed to sing 'Rule Britannia' if someone mentions Quidditch."

"Your brothers…" I looked at her, and said, "Isn't there something about a joke shop?"

"You saw it! Isn't it fabulous? Yes, Fred and George started it, with their mate Lee. Another brother, Ron, will be working there soon. Did you see Harry's picture?"

"The one about the Bangs? That's um … Harry?" I unrolled the Gringott's scroll, and added, "Harry Potter?"

"That's my Harry. What's that?"

"We were in Gringott's yesterday, and they gave us this while the fight was going on. It kept updating itself. You're on here, you know. Who's … H. Granger?"

"Hermione. Oh, they'll want to see this!" She gazed at me, then said, "You won't reveal where he's hiding?"

"Puh-lease! You don't recognize the name 'Wayne'?" Ginny shook her head, and I said, "Don't worry about it. Our family is used to keeping secrets. Dad put a bunch of money in my Gringott's account to make sure I'd have enough." I pulled out the little account bag, and Ginny recognized it.

"Tap the bag with your wand, and tell it 'Balance'." I did so, and three numbers glowed: 2847/7/16. Ginny whistled. "You're not hurting, but don't spread it around. I think you're used to our friends in the press. Come on, I'll introduce you to Harry and Hermione." As we walked, Ginny added, "I partnered with Hermione, who has got to be THE smartest witch in a long time. She scored EIGHTEEN OWL's! Eighteen!"

"What's an OWL?"

"Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations, you take them at the end of fifth year. I didn't do badly with twelve. At the end of seventh year, which is next year for me, there are the NEWT's. Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. Harry, Ron, and Hermione won't find out what they scored until the end of July. Oh, hello, Lady Gray."

"Hello, Ginny. Congratulations on making Head Girl. Who do we have here?"

I guess they expected me to freak on seeing a ghost. I nodded my head politely, and replied, "Hello, ma'am. I'm Mattie Wayne. Ginny has been kind enough to give me a tour while my parents meet with Professor Dumbledore."

"Most interesting, your reaction. You've seen ghosts before?"

"Yes, ma'am, although usually in a different … format. Like a long, thin flickering candle flame, although that doesn't mean I can't talk to them. However, I seem to be the only one that can."

Lady Gray transfigured herself to my description, then back. "My dear, I would advise you to keep this ability to yourself until needed, as you did with yours, Ginny. Necromancy is still considered a dark art by many, and the additional difficulties you would encounter at the start of your magical education would be … unwelcome. You may trust Ginny's discretion." She turned, and said, "Peeves is approaching. Head to my Tower, and I shall distract him. Hurry."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you!" Ginny took my hand, and took off running, while the Lady floated off. After a brief run, we arrived at a large statue of a raven. Ginny told it "_Antipodean_", and it ground open, allowing us to slip inside.

"Hello, Ginny," a blonde with slightly protuberant eyes and a distracted air said. "How did you get the password?" She stopped putting up notices, and asked, "Who are you?"

"Mattie Wayne, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna, I'm Head Girl next year, so Professor Dumbledore gave me the current faculty password, and the Gray Lady suggested we head here to avoid Peeves."

Luna nodded, and said, "Welcome to Ravenclaw Tower, Mattie. Please feel free to look around." She returned to putting up notices.

Ginny said, "I was planning on showing you Gryffindor tower, which is where I live. Each House has a common room, like you see, and separate dormitories for boys and girls. The girl's staircases are set so guys can't go up them. Luna, can I show her your dorm?"

"Certainly, although I'm still packing. Go up the left staircase to the sixth landing. The loo is off to the right when you go in."

As we walked up the staircases (these didn't move), Ginny glared at a descending witch, and said, "Edgecombe." There were faint marks on her face, and she sneered, "Weaslette." After we got in the dorm, Ginny sent another glare after her, then said, "Edgecombe there betrayed the DA, sorry, the Defense Association to that toady Umbridge in my fourth year, and ran afoul of one of Hermione's hexes. Did you notice her forehead?"

I nodded, and Ginny grinned, and said, "The loyalty hex wrote 'SNEAK' on her face - one of Hermione's nastier little jinxes. You can see she's still got the scars. Fortunately, you won't have to deal with her, she's graduating." She opened a window, and added, "These dorms can be pleasant in spring and summer, but they're drafty in winter. You can do homework here, although most people do theirs in either their common room or the library. When you get your school trunk, get one with built in expansion and lightening charms. They're more expensive, but you can pack a lot more in, including a broom." She indicated a wall, with four of the six horizontal hooks occupied by broomsticks. I poked my head in the loo, and found it typical.

"Anything else you want to see?" I shook my head, and Ginny checked her watch, then said, "Let's go see the library, and then we can get lunch in the Great Hall." I followed her down the stairs.

------------------------

"So … tell me about you and Harry," I prompted.

"Well, I had a crush on him initially, all based on that whole 'Boy who lived' malarkey," Ginny said as we walked down a staircase. "Once I got here in my first year, I got to know him better, because I was sorted into Gryffindor, and saw that he…STOP! Hop down the next two steps to where I am. Those next two are trick steps - you'll be trapped in them if you step on them."

"How long does it take to learn all of these?" I asked, carefully jumping down. With a grinding sound, the staircase started to shake, and I hurried after Ginny to the landing. My jaw dropped as the staircase moved away, leaving us on a landing in the middle of the air, seven floors of nothingness under us.

"Couple of months. 'Lo, Neville. Mattie Wayne, meet Neville Longbottom," Ginny said, introducing the round-faced boy. She didn't seem to be worried we were standing on a six by six-foot stone slab in the middle of the air.

"I still haven't learned them all," Neville said mournfully. "Hello, Mattie. Mind the edge, there." I nodded, wondering what I could do here with a decel line.

"I was taking Mattie on a tour, but it looks like the most direct route to the library is gone for now," Ginny said.

"Were you going to introduce her to Harry?" Neville asked. "They moved to Myrtle's loo."

"Okay, who's Myrtle, and why is she in a bathroom?" I asked. I was curious and didn't have anything else to do.

"Moaning Myrtle is one of the resident ghosts," Ginny said. "She was killed in that loo about fifty years ago. It's not used, because it's not nice to be in having a pee with Myrtle crying and flooding the bloody place."

"She's ALWAYS crying, and flooding the first floor," Neville added. With a grinding noise, a staircase swiveled into position; Ginny led me on.

------------------------

"Um, Ginny? This is the second floor." I pointed over the railing, and added, "That's the first."

"No, that's the ground floor, this is the first. Welcome to the UK, Yank." Ginny said with a grin. We splashed through some water, and went in a door labeled 'Female W/C'. Inside, a young man with messy black hair, and a young woman with bushy brown hair sloppily pulled back were pointing wands at us.

"Hi, Ginny," the brunette said. "We heard Rita Skeeter was nosing around again."

"Haven't seen her," Ginny said cheerfully. "I'd like to introduce Mattie Wayne. Her parents are with the Headmaster now. Mattie, this is Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

"So, why are you guys hiding?" I asked, leaning against a circular stand of sinks. Everything about the castle gave the appearance of age and hard use.

"The bloody press," Harry answered. "They all want pictures, and interviews, 'Oh, just one more, please, Mr. Potter!' - a great bloody nuisance, they are."

"I agree. Even a private school is no guarantee of privacy with the press," I groused.

"You're still a celebrity, though, even in class, instead of being 'normal'," Harry agreed. I sighed and nodded, and he asked, "So, what about you?"

"Parents are celebrities, and Dad's a billionaire. You?"

"Famous scar, prophecy, and an evil wizard trying to kill me every year."

"That sucks."

Harry nodded, and glanced at his watch, said, "Shall we brave the Great Hall for lunch?"

------------------------

I walked with Hermione, while Ginny and Harry trailed behind, down the stairs to the first … er, ground floor, turning left and going through a set of double doors. I leaned over, and asked, "Er, am I hallucinating, or did that portrait just _wave_ at me?"

She laughed, and said, "It did, and it does take a while to get used to. I come from a muggle family myself. My parents are dentists. Look up at the ceiling."

"Oh, my." The sun peeked out from behind scudding clouds. If I looked hard, I could see the beams in the ceiling.

"Get out of my sight, mudbloods. I can't breathe with your stench in the air."

Hermione turned to face the speaker, and sighed, "Pritchard. Does being rude come with a bloodline now?"

"Oh, that's quite all right, Hermione." I smiled at the twerp, and held out my hand. "Helena Wayne." I waited as he sneered, and then added quietly, "Good breeding means you at least acknowledge a greeting." He sniffed, then touched my hand, mumbling "Graham Pritchard."

I shook his hand while patting him on the shoulder, then nodded politely and moved off. Pritchard's eyes rolled up in his head, and with a bang, his forehead hit the table. I smiled at Hermione, and said, "Where do we sit?" Hermione's mouth dropped open, and I asked again, "Sit? Food?"

"Over here, Mattie," Ginny called. I poked Hermione, who shook herself, and we walked over to the far table against the wall. I sat on the bench, smoothing my skirt, and Ginny asked, "What did you do?"

"Me? Nothing. I just shook his hand. Why do you ask?" I examined the heavy gold plates and cutlery, which seemed to be 24 karat. Ginny poured some orange juice into a goblet, and then passed it to me.

"Well, he's still unconscious," Harry said.

"Perhaps he was tired," I suggested, as I took a sip, then winced. "What's this, and what's the food like?"

"It's pumpkin juice, and the food's excellent. There's also plenty of it," Ginny said. "Oh, look, post is here!" I looked up to see several dozen owls enter the hall, and circle over the table. Harry groaned, and hid his head in his hands as they started to land.

"Harry, do you mind?" Hermione asked. He waved a hand with a 'mmuph' sound, as I took a sip of pumpkin juice. I twisted my face, and decided that it must be an acquired taste. I untied a note from an owl's leg, and passed it my goblet of juice. It hooted in thanks, took a drink, and then took off. Another one waddled up to me, and I relieved it of its burden, adding it to the growing pile in the middle of the table.

"It's a thank you letter. A rather effusive one," Ginny said. I untied another scroll, stroked the owl's head, for which it nipped my finger affectionately, took a drink, and then took off. I moved to the next patiently waiting owl, and asked, "Is there anything besides pumpkin juice to drink?"

"Water, milk, coffee, tea. What's your pleasure?" Hermione asked.

"A couple of large goblets of water for the owls, if you don't mind." Hermione passed me two, and I set them down so the owls in line could drink, and resumed untying messages.

"Ginny," Hermione said. "A marriage proposal," she said, passing the scroll over.

"Nobody but Ginny," Harry said. A tall black fellow sat down, and Harry added, "'Lo, Dean."

"Harry. Hi, everyone," he spied me, and stretched his hand out, "Dean Thomas".

"Mattie Wayne," I said as I shook his hand.

"Ah, the five pence tour," Dean said. He sighed, and said, "Blimey, I'm gonna miss this place. Lots of good times here." He looked at the stack of letters, and said, "Need a hand with the mail?"

Hermione was looking at me, and said, "Dean, you're still conscious." I turned my attention to the next owl.

"'O course. Why wouldn't I be?" He took a gulp of pumpkin juice. _It must be an acquired taste,_ I thought.

"Mattie knocked Graham Pritchard out when she shook his hand."

"He's a blue-blooded ass," I said. I stuck my hand out, and Dean shook it firmly. I held my hands up, and said, "See? Nothing up my sleeves."

"'Cept your wand. May I?" I pulled it out of the holster, and handed it to Dean. He inspected it, then said, "I've never seen a silver wand before. Where'd you get it?"

"Boston, from Revere wands. May I see yours?" He nodded, and handed mine back, along with his, a smudged cherry wand. I handed it back when more owls came in, and started to circle.

"Oi, some of you owls for Harry, line up over here!" Dean called. Some of them broke out of their pattern, while the rest took place in line with me, where I resumed untying messages.

------------------------

"Harry! How good to see you!" I looked up, and saw a portly wizard with a lime green bowler striding toward us. A short, wide witch with appalling taste and Secretary Weasley followed him. All over the hall, people were rising, wands out, with expressions of hatred and loathing.

Hermione told me, "Get behind us, Mattie, we'll protect you."

"Who are they?" I asked.

"The fat bitch is Umbridge, and Minister Fudge in the green hat," Dean said. "Get behind us." I scooted behind them, and they said, "_Protegro Unisys_". A glimmering dome surrounded the three of us. Similar shields started appearing before other people.

"Harry! What's all this? Why, we're all friends here!" Fudge asked, stopping about ten feet away.

Harry motioned, indicating the Great Hall. "WE are friends, Fudge, but you and your toadies are not. FRIENDS come when one of them is in danger. Where were the Aurors yesterday? The only ones with us were the ones who ignored your recall order."

"Why did you recall the Aurors, and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Minister? Was there a greater danger than Voldemort attacking?" Ginny asked.

"Hem, hem. Now see here, little girl. You shouldn't be questioning your superiors. They know far better than you," Umbridge said in a sickening, little-girl voice.

"You are a fat little toady, Umbridge, and a disgrace to our house," a girl with long, straight black hair and violet eyes said. "I call a vote of Slytherin. All in favor of removing Dolores Umbridge from House Slytherin?"

"**AYE**!" Umbridge turned white.

"Opposed?"

"Not I." I turned, as did many people, and saw the tall form of the Potions professor, as well as three other professors. He turned, and asked the three witches, "Your vote?"

"Expel."

"Remove her."

A rail-thin witch with too many beads and shawls added, "The fates have foretold this, Dolores Jane Umbridge. I also vote to restore the honor of my house."

The Potions professor nodded, saying, "Thank you, Sybill. For the first time in 320 years, we remove a name from the rolls of House Slytherin. Now get out of my sight."

------------------------

Fudge looked after the departing Umbridge, and said, "Ahem. Well, now, Harry. The Ministry has decided to award you the Order of Merlin, First cla …"

"I don't want it."

"But Harry! We have a nice press conference all arranged at the Ministry, and …"

"I said I don't want it, Fudge. You and your bloody Ministry can shove off." Harry sat down and untied a letter from an owl's leg.

"Now, see here, Harry…" Secretary Weasley started.

Ginny asked, "Weatherby, did Harry ask for your opinion? Now shove off, or I'll hex you myself." She sat down and ignored him, untying another owl's leg.

"I suggest you depart, Minister," the silky voice of the Potions Master intoned. "You are not welcome. Or are you perhaps unaware of the number of wands pointing at you?"

Secretary Weasley looked about, gulped, and started to sidle toward the doors. I peeked out between Hermione and Dean, and saw ranks of students, some standing on tables, wands pointed at the two.

"But … Well, I'll be in touch, Harry!" Fudge said, as he moved quickly toward the door. The downdraft from the circling owls knocked his bowler off, and he paused, dithering a moment, before sprinting toward the door.

------------------------


	4. The Hogwarts Express

------------------------

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

------------------------

4 - The Hogwarts Express

------------------------

------------------------

**__**

Tuesday, September 1, 1998:   
London's Kings Cross Station, Platform 9 3/4

------------------------

Mom sniffed back a tear, while Dad ruffled my hair. "Write often, pumpkin," he said, as I hugged them both.

"I'll keep an eye out for her, Mr. Wayne," Ginny promised. "I'd like you to meet my parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley."

"Don't worry about her," Mrs. Weasley said to my folks. "She's in good hands with our Ginny." She gave Ginny a last hug, then said, "Well? Off with you, then."

"All right, then, Mattie. All you need to do is to run full speed at the wall. Just watch me." She turned, then ran with her cart right at the brick wall, and vanished into it. I blinked, then looked at the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley made a shooing motion, and I shrugged, then ran at the wall.

"That … was weird," I said.

"No, that's magic. Come on, move out of the way," Ginny said. "This is my brother Bill, and Shadow." She motioned toward an approaching man with a large black panther on a leash. She ruffled Shadow's fur after giving Bill a hug. I moved over, crouched, and regarded Shadow. He regarded me with green eyes, then padded over to me. I held out my hand, and he sniffed it, then purred and licked my face.

"See why I don't wear makeup?" Ginny giggled. "He likes you. Here, let me shrink your luggage. Did you bring a familiar?"

"Yes, but she's nothing like Shadow." I moved over to my cart, and undid the front of the wicker carrier. "She's a miniature lynx, and her name is Dynamo." I added, "Dynamo, meet Shadow." Shadow stuck his nose in her carrier, and I could hear grunting going on. A whistle sounded, and Bill said, "That's the ten minute warning. Come on, Shadow. We need to get a compartment." I buckled Dynamo back in her carrier, and followed them.

------------------------

"Is this compartment taken?"

I waved at the two dark-skinned girls, and said, "Come in. Sorry for the mess, and I can't really get up now." The other girl with black hair and purple eyes looked up from her book and smiled.

They dumped their stuff in the middle of the compartment. I said, "I'm Mattie Wayne, that's Sprink, and this great lump on my lap is Shadow." I prodded him and said, "Come on now, get up. You can nap later." He raised his head, blinked, and then gave an impressive yawn.

"Oh my god, that's a panther," one of the girls said in a strangled whisper.

"Yeah. He's not mine, though. I've got a lynx over there. This lazy bum is Ginny Weasley's. She's in a meeting right now." I prodded him again, and said, "Where are your manners?" He turned to regard me, stuck his tongue out, and then jumped down. I stood up, staggered a bit and shook my legs to restore circulation, then held out my hand. "As I was saying, Mattie Wayne from Gotham. I guess you're firsties like me?"

They nodded. "Roshawn … "

"… and Shaundra Cortez"

"… from New York," they chorused.

"Twins?" someone asked from the doorway.

They nodded, and I waved, "Fellow Yanks, too. Come on in. Charlie Adams, right?"

"That's right." He came in, then froze at the sight of Shadow, who was getting his fur stroked by both twins. A deep rumbling purr escaped him, and everyone froze.

I snorted, "Silly. That was a _purr_. Haven't any of you had cats before?"

"Not one that weighed a hundred and fifty kilos," Charlie said. I sighed, and grabbed his hand, "Come on. Shadow, this is Charlie." He opened one eye, then leaned forward to sniff Charlie.

"More mudbloods, I see. On my train." Charlie moved to the side, and I saw Graham Pritchard standing in the open doorway. Shadow's transformation was instantaneous. His ears laid back, eyes slit, and he showed his fangs with a snarl as he readied himself to spring. Dynamo leaped out of his carrier onto my shoulder, and hissed at Pritchard, fangs bared. He froze, and a small dark line went down his slacks, puddling on the floor.

"_Evansco,_" Ginny said from behind him, making the small puddle vanish. "_Your_ train, Mr. Pritchard? I suggest you go change into your uniform, before Slytherin starts the year in the negative. Off with you now." Pritchard ran off, and Ginny tapped Shadow's nose with her finger, saying, "Shadow! He's only a fourth year. I want you to play nice from now on." He miaowed and rolled over, and she giggled, asking him, "Who do you think you are, Snuffles?" He miaowed again, and she leaned down to scratch his chest, saying, "Why don't you and … "

"Charlie. Charlie Adams, ma'am."

"I'm not a ma'am, I'm a Ginny. Ginny Weasley, Head Girl. We all need to change into our uniforms, so if you and Shadow will wait in the corridor, then we'll trade off."

"Why does Shadow need to leave?" one of the twins asked.

"He'll lie about, taking up space. Five girls changing in one tiny compartment? He'll take up every spare inch." She gave Shadow a nudge, then said, "Off with you, you great lump." She eyed Charlie, and said, "Don't worry, he won't hurt you."

------------------------

As I waited for the rest to finish changing, I asked, "Where did you get Shadow?"

"He's from Harry. Since I'll be patrolling the halls at night, he wanted me to have a little extra protection. That's why you innocent firsties will be snug in your dorms at night. No sneaking out, now." Ginny said it with a straight face, but there was an amused twinkle in her eyes.

One of the twins asked, "Why do you have a different tie than we do?"

"I've been Sorted. Yours will change into your house colors. Mine are Gryffindor."

"What's this Sorting like? Do we have to sing or anything?" the other twin asked.

"No, nothing like that. You'll find out, though." There was a knock on the glass, and a voice asked, "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Ginny asked quietly, "Anything to eat or drink?" I shook my head, and Ginny called, "We're good. Thanks, luv." She asked, "Everyone ready?" I nodded with the others, and she called, "Charlie? Ready?"

------------------------

As we waited for Charlie to finish, Sprink asked, "Who's Snuffles"?

"Snuffles was my boyfriend Harry's, a big black dog, looked like a Grim. Very playful, didn't have a serious bone in his body. He was killed just over two years ago. Harry is still mourning him, in a way." Ginny sniffed, then said, "What about you? I've met Mattie's familiar. Who did you bring?"

------------------------

"Firs' years over here! All firs' years, over here!" I heard Hagrid, and made my way over to him. He waved his lantern, and called again, then spotted us, and an enormous smile appeared in his beard. "Miss Wayne! G'd tah see yah ag'in!"

"Mr. Hagrid, I'd …" I started, and the waved his finger.

"Jus' Hagrid, 'tis. Friends 'o yours?"

I nodded, "This is Roshawn and Shaundra Cortez, my fellow Yanks, my friend Sprink Tonks, and Charlie Adams."

"Pleased." He genuinely seemed to be, and added, "We'll be leavin' in a bit, so don't wander off, now." Hagrid raised his lantern, and called again, "Firs' years, over here!"

"Oh, wow!" Charlie said. Lit up against the night sky was an enormous castle, lights and torches reflecting on the surface of the lake. I pulled out my camera, and took a picture.

"Right, now," Hagrid said. "We're going tae cross to the castle now, so follow me. If ye' fall in, dan' worry, the squid in tha' lake will fish ya out, na trouble. E'ryone ready?" He walked down to a wooden dock, and called "Four to a boat, ye' don't need ta row. Forty two a' ye, so two wi' me, now!"

As the boats moved slowly across the lake, the castle loomed even more. We drifted into a cavern under the lake, and a cloud of bats took off, to the shrieks of students. Sprink looked at me, and asked, "Doesn't that bother you?"

I smiled, and said, "No." We bumped up against the dock, and clambered out. The boat moved off by itself, and other people joined us.

"Righ'." Hagrid did a quick head count, then said, "We'll be goin' up to the Great Hall now. 'Tis where you're sorted into y' houses. F'llo me, now." We followed him, until he stopped. "Righ'. One more flight, an' ye'll be met. I'll see ye'll later now. G'luck tae all o' ye at Hogwarts." He vanished, moving surprisingly quietly for such a large man.

One floor up, Professor McGonagall waited for us. She looked us over sternly, then said, "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. In a few minutes, you will proceed into the Great Hall, where you will be Sorted into your Houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Your house is your family while you are here at Hogwarts. Good grades and behavior will gain your house points, while misbehavior and rule-breaking will cost your house points." She gazed at us, then added, "At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup." She looked us over then said, "Follow me," turned, and opened the doors.

------------------------

I followed along as people entered, murmuring about the hundreds of floating candles. We stopped in the middle of the hall, facing the high table. Professor McGonagall motioned us to wait, then advanced to stand next to a stool, where an ancient, patched and filthy hat sat. I blinked, a rip along the brim opened, and it started to sing. I took a picture, and Sprink whispered, "Didn't you know muggle cameras won't work?"

Someone else shh'd her, and I caught a bit of the song.

__

"…You might belong in Gryffindor,   
_Where dwell the brave at heart,_   
_You might belong in Hufflepuff, _  
_Where they are just and stout,_   
_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _  
_If you've a sharp mind,_   
_Or perhaps in Slytherin,   
Those cunning folks, _  
_Do achieve their ends._

__

So how to know?   
'Twas Gryffindor what found the way,   
_He pulled me off his head,   
The four put brains in me,_   
_So I could choose instead!_   
_So slip me 'bout your ears,_   
_I've never yet been wrong,_   
_I'll have a look inside your mind,_   
_And find where you belong!"_

There was applause, and Professor McGonagall called, "When I call your name, come have a seat, and the Hat will sort you into your house." There was an excited murmur, and one of the boys started to hyperventilate. She called, "Adams, Charles." He gulped, slicked his hair with his hands (which got a laugh), and climbed onto the stool. The Hat was placed on his head, and it twisted as it seemed to carry on a conversation with him. After a minute or so, the rip opened up with a call, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Cortez twins were sorted into Ravenclaw, and soon Sprink and I were the only ones left.

Professor McGonagall called, "Tonks, Susquehanna."

Before she sat down, she said, "Sprink, please. I hate my name."

There was a chuckle, and Professor McGonagall said with a small smile, "Forgive me, Miss Tonks. Ready?" She nodded, and the Hat went on her head. It seemed to argue with her. It finally called, "SLYTHERIN!" She hopped off the stool, and headed for the cheering table to the left.

"Wayne, Helena."

I took a deep breath, and marched up the aisle between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. I climbed onto the stool, and said, "Mattie, please." Professor McGonagall gave me a small smile, and lowered the Hat onto my head.

__

"Well, well, very interesting. Hello, Miss Wayne. You're very like your parents, you know."

"Hello, Mr. Hat. What do you mean, I'm like my parents?"

"Both of them had a great deal of mental discipline. You don't have as much, but you're still young. In time, you will prove to be either a great hero or a terrible danger. It's all here, you see."

"What do you mean … YOU'RE READING MY MIND!" I slammed my mental shields closed.__

"Now, now …" I could feel the Hat prodding at my shields, and then I heard it say, "Minerva, give this tetchy girl a poke. She's a natural Occlumens, like her parents." I felt someone shake me gently, and say, "Mattie? Let the Hat do its job."

__

"Miss Wayne?"

"Sorry, Mr. Hat. People's lives depend on the secrets I have. I can't let you see them."

"Humph. I've been looking in people's minds for over a thousand years, you know. You can trust me to guard your secrets."

"No offense, Mr. Hat, but how do I know that? How can I trust you? We've just met."

The Hat sighed._ "I don't believe I'm doing this." _He spoke aloud, "Albus, please schedule this stubborn girl with Occlumency and Legilimency lessons as soon as possible." He returned to our private conversation, _"Now then. I've done as much as I can. Will you let me do my job now?"_

I replied,_ "Maybe. What are these things you've asked about?"_

The Hat sighed._ "Occlumency is the art of magically defending the mind against external penetration, sealing it against intrusion and influence. Legilimency is the opposite, the ability to extract emotions and memories from another's mind."_

"Hmm. This could prove useful," I thought.

__

"Who's this 'Two-Face' person?" the Hat asked.

"A criminal. He's mentally ill. Maybe this would help him." An image of Harvey Dent flashed on my mind.__

"How noble, how Gryffindor. We're getting someplace now." The Hat snorted._ "Did you know that we've passed the record for Sorting an individual? Harry Potter was the previous record holder with five minutes, we're now approaching fifteen with you."_

"Mah-velous, dahling," I thought.

__

"Snarky, sarcastic, and extremely intelligent. Slytherin traits. Cunning as well. More Slytherin."

"I could be with Tonks? That would be cool."

"We want the best fit for you, not where your relatives or friends are," The Hat chided._ "Hmm. You're intelligent, but not a bookworm. You're not afraid of homework, but being the top of your class isn't a high priority for you. That eliminates Ravenclaw, although you could do well there." _The Hat spoke aloud, "Not Ravenclaw." I heard people groan, and the Hat continued,_ "You and your parents have an affinity for the common man, which is characteristic of Hufflepuff. A good and noble trait, but not a dominant one." _The Hat spoke aloud again, "Not Hufflepuff." There was another collective groan.__

The Hat continued, _"You're not afraid to help out someone in distress. A Gryffindor trait, like your father would have been. However, your mother would have made a wonderful Slytherin. There are some odd echoes between their minds, however, that's not relevant at the moment. It's a tossup right now between Gryffindor and Slytherin. You could do very well in either one." _The Hat mused, "_You seem to have more affinity for_ SLYTHERIN!"

The Hat came off my head, and I blinked, then made my way over to the madly cheering, stomping table. People were slapping me on the back, and I said, "Wow."

Sprink told me, "That was the longest Sorting I've ever heard of! It must have been a good twenty minutes. What were you talking to the Hat about?" I simply smiled, and looked up as the Headmaster tapped his goblet.

"Now that we all know where we are, it's time for a few announcements. Our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Mr. Remus Lupin, has resigned to pursue other interests." People started to murmur, and look at the Head Table, where there was an empty seat. The Headmaster raised his hands. "Fortunately, we have acquired a most competent successor, one who most of you know well." The Headmaster paused, and then simply said, "Mr. Harry Potter." With a swirling effect, he appeared at the vacant place, and stood to acknowledge the standing ovation.

Once the noise had died down a bit, the Headmaster raised his hands again. "As you may be aware of, a few weeks ago, the forces of the Dark Lord attacked us here. Due to great good fortune, there were only four fatalities, two of which were from the village of Hogsmeade, and two from our Hogwarts family." He clapped his hands, and black banners with pictures appeared behind the High Table. He motioned to the first, and said, "Mr. Draco Malfoy was a seventh-year Slytherin that most of you knew. What you did not know was Mr. Malfoy was passing us intelligence on the Dark Lord's activities. When the attack began, he saved the life of our Mr. Hagrid, before being tortured and slain by his own father. I ask you to stand and offer a moment's silence for Mr. Malfoy."

I stood with the rest, and toasted the fellow I hadn't known. Some of the girls at the table were crying. I sat with the rest, and the Headmaster continued, motioning to the next banner. "Madame Gillian Rosemerta owned the Three Broomsticks pub in Hogsmeade. I am afraid that little is known of her life after her graduation in 1979. She was a member of Ravenclaw house, as is her daughter Alyssia. She will be taking over the pub, so the supply of butterbeer is assured. I ask you to stand for Madame Rosemerta." I stood and toasted her as well.

Motioning to the third banner, the picture of a short-haired witch with odd yellow eyes, the Headmaster said, "Madame Rolanda Hooch was our flying instructor and Quidditch referee. Those duties will be assumed by Mr. Potter, so you need not fear a lack of Quidditch." People chuckled, and he continued, "Madame Hooch was a former Beater for the Holyhead Harpies, and a member of Hufflepuff house. I understand the Harpies have donated a set of new Nimbus brooms to Hufflepuff house in her memory. I give you Madame Rolanda Hooch." I stood again, and toasted her.

The Headmaster motioned to the last banner, which bore the face of a nondescript young man. "Very little is known of Albert Samuals after his graduation from Hogwarts in 1983. He worked for the Ministry, and was a member of Gryffindor house while he attended school here. I ask you to stand in his memory." For the last time, I stood and toasted.

"I can hear stomachs growling from here, so I have one more thing to say." He clapped his hands twice, and said, "Dig in." Food appeared on the table in front of me, and someone muttered "Finally!" I reached for the mashed potatoes.

------------------------

After we had stuffed ourselves, the Headmaster stood again, and tapped his goblet. The noise died down, and he said, "I have only a few announcements. For various reasons, we are moving to a modified schedule, in which there is only one double class per each morning and afternoon session. All four houses will be in each class. Also, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, asked me to remind you that magic is not allowed in the corridors. He also informs me that the entire catalog from Weasley Wizard Wheezes have been added to the forbidden items list. That list now compromises thirty two feet, and is available for your perusal at Mr. Filch's office." People chuckled, and he added, "I must remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is indeed forbidden if you do not wish to die a most horrible death." He waited for the murmurs to die away, then said, "Tomorrow is the first day of classes, so off to bed with you."

------------------------

I waited with the others in a dungeon corridor. One of the prefects said, "This is the statue of Salazar Slytherin, the founder of our house. Professor Snape or one of the prefects will give you the new password every month. September's is _armadillo bile_." The statue rotated away, and I entered. The other prefect told us, "This is the common room. The door opposite the fireplace will lead to the Slytherin private library and to our potions laboratory." She pointed, then added, "The left hand stairway leads down to the girl's dorms, the right to the boy's. Before you can sleep, Professor Snape has a few words."

"Thank you, Miss Bundy." He leveled a gaze at us, then said, "I want the first years in front." I moved forward, standing next to Sprink. He gazed at each of us, and I met his gaze. He nodded, and said, "See me before classes tomorrow, Miss Wayne." I nodded, and he raised his voice. "To enroll you as members of the Serpent's Den, there are things I must emphasize. Firstly, we present a united front to the other houses. Even if you disagree with another Slytherin, you will always support them in public. Everything that occurs in this house STAYS in this house." I nodded, and he continued, "The library and potions laboratory is here for your use. Books are charmed to become illegible if taken outside the House. If a member of another house touches one, it will incinerate. These represent a private storehouse of knowledge unavailable to the other houses. If you are having difficulties in your studies, ask another member of the house for tutoring. Are there any questions?" He smiled, and said, "Good."

Professor Snape turned, and muttered an incantation. A section of wall moved out, and a listing of names appeared. He said, "This is a listing of members of Slytherin House since our founding. If you become trapped in the castle, touch your wand to the castle's stone, and use the incantation _succubi serpentis_ and your name if female, _intestis serpentis_ and name if male. You will be delivered to the common room. This is, naturally, only to be used in mortal danger." He looked at us, then said, "Miss Wayne, you're first." He tapped his wand on the listing of names, and asked, "Are there any objections?"

Graham Pritchard said with a sneer, "Why is that mudblood even here?"

Professor Snape replied with a voice of liquid helium, "Miss Wayne is of purer wizarding blood than you are, Mr. Pritchard. Due to unfortunate history, she and her parents were unaware of this until recently. I believe you heard the Hat's comments regarding her Occlumency?" He mumbled something, and Professor Snape said, "Now that objections have been offered, are there any other?" No one else said anything, and Professor Snape told me, "Tap the list with your wand, and state your full name. Then cut your finger with this knife, and smear some of your blood across your name."

I stepped forward, and tapped the list. It stopped, and I said, "Helena Martha Wayne." I holstered my wand, then accepted the blade, slitting my left index finger. I massaged it to get a good flow, then touched it to all three words, passing the knife back to Professor Snape. My name blurred, then started to rotate with the others. The blonde prefect motioned me over to her, and muttered a charm over my finger. I turned to watch Sprink's initiation.

------------------------


	5. Classes, Week One, First Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
  
------------------------   
5 - Classes, Week One, First Year   
------------------------   
**Wednesday, September 2, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Slytherin House   
**------------------------   
"Karen, how do I get to Professor Snape's office?" I asked the blonde prefect.  
  
"Go through the door leading to the library. When it branches to the left and right, tap your wand on the wall straight ahead. If he's accepting visitors, it will open for you. If he's there, but not accepting visitors, it will turn red briefly, and you can ask him at breakfast in the Great Hall. He'll be giving out our schedules today." I smiled, and she ruffled my hair, and said with a grin, "Twenty minutes for sorting. You won me five galleons, you know. Somehow, I knew you'd be unique. How are you at Quidditch?"  
  
"No idea. I've never seen a game."  
  
She grabbed my hands and examined them, then stepped back and eyed me. She said, "Who knows, we may have a Slytherin Potter in you. We'll get together a scratch game so you can see what it's like. Tryouts are coming up, and the Slythie girls are hoping to break the guy's team dominance. You look like a Seeker, and lord knows, we could use a good one. We haven't won the Cup in seven years." She smiled, and motioned with her head. "Go see the Professor. We'll talk later."  
  
I tapped my wand, and the door opened for me. I called, "Professor? You wanted to see me?"  
  
"Miss Wayne. I thought you might wish to see these papers." He tapped his wand on the wall, and the door closed. He handed me a sheaf of papers, and I looked at it:  
  
**Who's Who in the Wizarding World:   
Volume 23: W  
**  
**Wayne, Helena Martha   
**31 May 1988 - ? Gemini, Scorpio rising   
Hogwarts: Slytherin House  
  
**Wayne, Bruce **(see **Batman**) American covert crimefighter. Son of **Wayne, Dr. Thomas **(murdered), **Wayne, Martha **(murdered), chairman Wayne Enterprises, Billionaire (real estate) Residence Gotham City, USA married **Kyle, Selina** (see **Batgirl**, **Catwoman**)  
  
I flipped to another page, and stared in horror at my mother's:  
  
**Who's Who in the Wizarding World:   
Volume 11: K**  
  
**Kyle, Selina** (nee Wayne), (see **Batgirl**, **Catwoman**)   
Reformed professional thief (never prosecuted), covert crimefighter  
  
I swayed, and the Professor caught me, and guided me to a seat. He asked, "This is why the Hat was taking so long?" I nodded, and he added, "Magical reference books like the Who's Who update automatically, by themselves. That's why you're listed. Your parents have experienced the Hat. Albus has pulled the Who's Who volumes from the library, and your parents have copies of these entries, but that is as far as we can go in concealing the information."  
  
I blinked and swayed, then said, "I have to go. I have to go home ... "  
  
"And do what?" His voice was surprisingly gentle. "Possibly die with them? We cannot predict the future, despite what you may learn in Divination. I presume they chose this path?"  
  
I swallowed, and said, "To some extent. Dad watched his parents murdered in front of him in a street robbery. That's what drove him ... to become the Bat."  
  
"This is also why the Hat had difficulty choosing between Gryffindor and Slytherin." He sat back and regarded me, then said, "Only three other people on staff know of this, and you may count on their discretion. I trust them with my life. They are the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Potter. If I cannot help you, please seek out one of them. Do you know where the Headmaster's office is?" I nodded, and he said, "There is an emergency password which you can use - 'Wayne emergency', which will not only admit you, but alert the four of us. What do you want to tell the rest of Slytherin house?"  
  
"N ... Nothing for now. Let me digest this."  
  
He nodded. "As you wish. You've missed breakfast." He handed me a sandwich, and said, "If you feel up to it, I'll walk you to your first class." He passed me a sheet of paper with my class schedule. I automatically glanced at it, and the first one was Charms.  
  
------------------------  
  
I had the appearance of normality by lunch, although I couldn't have told you a word of what the lesson was. Fortunately, Professor Snape had said something to Professor Flitwick. I pushed lunch around my plate, and Sprink quietly asked me, "What's the problem?"  
  
"Some ... unsettling news from home," I stared into my goblet of milk.  
  
"Anything we can do?" one of my housemates asked quietly. He added, "What the Professor said last night isn't bollocks. If we can help, we will. We're family, you know."  
  
I gave a weak smile, then looked at my schedule. "The firsties have Transfiguration this afternoon. I should go over the Charms notes, and then write home." I took a deep breath, then asked, "Karen said something about a scratch Quidditch game? I've never seen one."  
  
------------------------  
  
_September 2, 1998  
  
Dear Mom and Dad, Well, I arrived safe and sound, and I've been sorted into Slytherin! I've got some really cool housemates, and Professor Snape (the tall one that dresses all in black), is actually kinda cool. We're going to have a scratch Quidditch game this afternoon to show all us muggles what it's like. The people in my house seem to think I'd make a good Seeker!  
  
Professor Snape mentioned the articles about the sub-basement, and said you'd gotten copies. He advised me to stay here, and said that I had backup from the faculty. Even though they don't know what the problem is, several people in the house have expressed support, so I'm inclined to take their advice, although I'll do what you want. I've only had one class so far and Transfiguration this afternoon. I wasn't much good in Charms, but Professor Snape talked to Professor Flitwick - it was just after I got the news.  
  
I've got some really cool pictures - I'll have to find out how to get them developed, and I'll send you a set. I'm writing this at lunch, so I'll send this, then I'll go over my friend Sprink's notes tonight. Transfiguration sounds cool.  
  
Your loving daughter,   
Mattie  
_  
------------------------  
  
"Ah, Miss Wayne. Please see me for a moment after class." I nodded, and Professor McGonagall said, "Transfiguration is not only changing one object to another, but one animal to another, if necessary. Professor Potter will be going over the defensive uses of transfiguration. For now, we're going to start simply by changing one object into another, similar object. Please take out your wands ... "  
  
After class, I approached the professor, and cleared my throat. "You wanted to see me, Professor?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Wayne. One moment, please." She cast a bubble around us, and said, "Now then, I understand Professor Snape discussed some ... documents with you?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am. He said you were aware of it?" She nodded, and I continued, "I'm inclined to follow his advice and stay, but I've written my parents. What's the fastest I can get it to them?" I fished out my letter.  
  
"I'll give it to Fawkes and ask him to wait for a reply. We should have one tonight. As soon as we receive it, I'll deliver it to you. Also, Professor Dumbledore will be working with you tomorrow morning on Occlumency, instead of your free period. Do you remember where his office is?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Should I use the emergency password?"  
  
"Oh, heavens no! The normal password this month is Canary Creams." She quirked her mouth, then said, "Don't worry, dear. We're here for you. Please don't hesitate to ask for help."  
  
------------------------  
  
After dinner, I walked down to the Quidditch pitch, to see aerial chaos going on. People from all four houses were there, so I wandered over to the other muggleborn students, where Professor Potter was sitting on the ground with us, trying to explain what was going on. He nodded to me, and continued as I sat down next to a Hufflepuff. He was a little on the thin side, with blue eyes and blond hair, " ... The Keeper position guards the goal hoops, and generally runs the team, as he has a more strategic view. Each house has a playbook that is jealously guarded." He grinned, and added, "When I captained the Gryffindor team, there were nine hundred years of plays, tactics and notes in there."  
  
He shifted, then added, "Now, you see those players just circling up above? Those are the Seekers, and their objective is to find and capture the Snitch. When you do, it's worth 150 points, and usually wins the game. The game continues until the Snitch is captured." He pulled a small golden ball out of a trunk. It was about the size of a walnut, and had golden wings that beat fruitlessly against his fingers. He added, "The game snitch is charmed so it can't go outside the pitch. If I were to let this go, since we're outside the pitch, we'd never find it again." He stuffed it back in the lid of a trunk, and carefully locked it. "Now, there are two other positions, and balls. The three Chasers on a side pass the Quaffle, and hopefully score off the Keeper." He passed a red leather ball around, and added, "Each goal is worth ten points. The two Beaters, on the other hand, use a bat (one was passed around) to redirect the Bludgers to attack the other team's chasers, or to defend them. It takes a lot of muscle to hit the Bludgers; they're made of iron. That's why Beaters are usually blokes."  
  
One of the orbiting players had dived, swerving in and out of the other players, the others following. I watched as the players dodged and weaved, one standing on his speeding broom, reaching, then grabbing the broom with his other hand, the other holding up an object. He swung a leg over the broom, and started a victory lap. Professor Potter sighed, and said, "Excellent catch!"  
  
"You sound like you miss it, Professor," Charlie Adams said.  
  
"I do. I was offered spots on professional teams, but I thought this was more important." He grinned, and said, "Hopefully, we'll get a faculty game together this year. Professors Snape and Vector were excellent Beaters, and Professor Flitwick played Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes." He sighed again, and asked, "Any questions?"  
  
------------------------  
  
The door to the common room opened, Karen looked up, and immediately stopped talking, flipping over the paper she was sketching on. She stood, and politely said, "Professor McGonagall?"  
  
"Where's ... Oh, there you are! Mattie? I have a reply from home for you," she passed me an envelope. I pulled a knife out and slit it open, then stowed the knife and quickly started to read it. Professor McGonagall looked at the papers, and asked, "Homework?"  
  
Karen shook her head, "Quidditch."  
  
McGonagall gave a small smile, and quipped, "I could hope." Karen grinned, and McGonagall said, "Good luck on your tryouts. You'll forgive me if I don't extend that to the season?"  
  
"Of course, Minerva. The feeling is reciprocated. The usual wager?" Professor Snape asked. She nodded, and extended her hand, which he shook. He asked, "Miss Wayne?"  
  
"I can STAY! YES!" I pumped a fist in the air, and Professor McGonagall patted my shoulder, telling me, "I'll inform the Headmaster. He was concerned." She gazed at Karen, and added, "I'll leave you to your ... homework."  
  
After both Professors had left, Karen asked, "How did you get a reply back from the States so quick, and why was McGonagall hand-delivering it?"  
  
"You know I got some bad news from home this morning?" She nodded, and I continued, "Professor Snape said he thought I should stay, so I wrote home to see what I should do. They replied that they were aware of the problem, and measures were in place to handle it. Professor Dumbledore offered to have Fawkes take the message, and he just came back with my reply, that I can STAY! YESSS!" I did a little victory dance, then plumped back down on the couch.  
  
"Good!" Karen flipped her papers over again. "If this was just homework, I wouldn't have bothered hiding it from McGonagall, but if it was a prank, or Quidditch, well, those need tighter security." I nodded, and Karen took up where she left off, "Now then. Harry, err, Professor Potter gave you the basics of Quidditch, but if you're going to Seek, you're going to need to ..."  
  
------------------------   
**Thursday, September 3, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Great Hall   
**------------------------  
  
"Good Morning!" I said as I sat down, putting my bookbag behind me.  
  
"You're chipper this morning," Karen observed.  
  
"I have my first Occlumency class with Professor Dumbledore. I'm really looking forward to it," I poured some milk, and added, "Please pass the scrambled eggs."  
  
"Bangers, if you please," someone said. I spied them, speared a couple, and passed them down. Sprink sat down, and took a slurp of coffee. She sighed, and said, "I thought they called bangers something else in the States."  
  
"They do, but my step-grandfather was British," I confessed. "I usually go with either tea or coffee in the morning, but I don't know how caffeine would affect the Occlumency. I'll ask Professor Dumbledore." I took a drink, then asked, "Is there a simple way to copy someone's notes?"  
  
"Sure, tap your wand to the original, say 'Duplicus', and then touch it to a blank sheet of parchment," a fellow said. "'Duplicus Totalis' if you want to copy everything. Terry Higgs, at your service." He grinned, the lowered his voice, and said, "I heard you had a problem at home. Anything I can do?"  
  
"Thanks, but it's handled as much as it can be for now. It's one of those wait-and-see things." I looked at my watch, then wolfed down a bit of toast. "If you will excuse me, I need to get to Professor Dumbledore's office."  
  
------------------------  
  
"Canary Creams," I told the statue, and it moved aside. I stepped on the moving stairs, and rode up. Knocking, I called, "Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Ah, Miss Wayne! Come in, come in. Lemon Drop?" He motioned me to a squashy armchair by the fire, while waving his wand at the door.  
  
"No thank you, sir. I did have a question, if there were any sort of dietary restrictions for Occlumency?"  
  
"How so?" he asked.  
  
"Well, coffee or tea to drink, because of the caffeine in them," I clarified.  
  
"Ah. No, those are perfectly safe, although I would steer away from alcoholic beverages. However, at your age, I wouldn't worry about those. By the time you can drink those, you should be a master Occlumens," he smiled.  
  
"Good," I smiled as I smoothed my skirt and sat down.  
  
"Now then, Miss Wayne. What I am going to do is to try to read your thoughts. You will erect your mental shields, and try to prevent me. Later on, we will work on having them erect, but in the background, so you are not vulnerable during your sleep, for instance." I nodded, and the Headmaster continued, "As you saw when you talked to Alastair, it is not painful. However, later, when we move on to thoughts connected to emotions, it may become distressing for you. Are there any questions?"  
  
"Just one. Who's Alastair?"  
  
"The Sorting Hat," he waved over his shoulder. "Frightfully intelligent fellow. You gave him a bit of a turn."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry." I looked around, and saw the Hat on a shelf. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hat."  
  
The tear in his brim opened, and he said, "Perfectly understandable, my dear. Neither one of us knew about your family. I do hope they're all right."  
  
"We'll just have to wait and see. Thank you, though."  
  
"Now then, Miss Wayne. Ready?" I nodded, and the Headmaster pointed his wand at me, and said, "Legilmens!"  
  
------------------------  
  
The clock chimed, and the Headmaster looked at me with a smile, "That was most satisfactory, Miss Wayne. Shall we say every Thursday morning, from nine to ten-thirty?" I nodded, and he continued, "Excellent. Now, I'm afraid I must do a bit of this dratted paperwork, or Minerva will hex me."  
  
I chuckled, and pulled the strap of my bookbag over my shoulder. I turned at the door, and said, "Have a nice day, Professor. You too, Mr. Hat."  
  
------------------------  
  
I wandered into the library, and looked about. The ceilings were a good thirty feet high, and bookshelves crammed full went almost all the way. On some of them, additional stacks of books covered the tops of the oak shelves. From what I could see, I guessed the library at four hundred by six hundred feet, with thousands of books. I saw some of my housemates wave to me, and joined them at a table.  
  
"Oh, man. My parents would kill for a library like this," I admitted.  
  
"I know. Fantastic, isn't it? James Dorney, at your service."  
  
I shook his hand, and said, "Mattie Wayne." I plumped down in a chair, and asked, "Where are the computers?"  
  
"The what?"  
  
"The computers. You know, for the indexes, and database searching, and the Internet?" He looked blank, and I asked, "How do you find anything in these thousands of books?"  
  
"They're alphabetized." He still looked confused.  
  
"You don't have full-text indexing? What if you needed to know the uses of ... dragon blood, or something?"  
  
"Depends on if it's magizoology, alchemy, potions, or herbology. Why, what's the assignment?" He was still confused, and added; "Blood potions are sixth year. Why do you need it in first? Is it for a prank?"  
  
I hid my face, and whispered, "My god, I'm back in the fourteenth century."  
  
"Why, is there a different way?" he asked.  
  
I laughed hollowly, and said, "My friend, you have absolutely NO idea." I shook my head, and said, "In my old school, if I wanted to research something like dragon's blood in the library, I would sit down at a computer, type in my query, and wait, oh, _a half second_ before having a list of _thousands_ of references from all over the world. I could then use those references to complete my assignment, or dump them to a file to complete them back in my dorm room. Can you do that here?"  
  
He blinked. "Muggles can?" I nodded. "But ... we've done it this way for years ... "  
  
"Has magic changed since the fourteenth century?" I asked.  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"Why haven't your libraries?" I waved at Sprink, and asked her, "Can I see your Transfiguration notes?"  
  
------------------------  
  
I walked into my first Potions class, and found a seat next to Sprink, unscrewing the cap to my pen, and taking out a fresh notebook. She looked at me, and said, "Nice pen."  
  
"Thanks." She picked up her quill, and I teased her, muttering, "Fourteenth century."  
  
The classroom door slammed, and Professor Snape appeared, calling "Settle down, settle down." He glowered at us, then said, "This is first year Potions. You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death." He glared at us, and continued, "If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."  
  
------------------------  
  
At dinner, Karen and James Dorney sat down across from me. Karen asked, "Mattie, James told me something fantastic, and I have difficulty believing it." I raised my eyebrow, and she continued, "You said that muggles can come up with thousands of references for a subject in a fraction of a second." I nodded, and she said, "That's impossible!"  
  
"Nope. Ask Professor Potter. I'm willing to put..." I pulled out my moneybag, and extracted some gold, "one hundred galleons on it." They blanched as I stacked them up, and said, "Two qualifiers. Professor Potter is the most muggle professor, so he would know best." They nodded, and I pulled out a scrap of paper and my pen. "Use these terms, so he'll know what you're asking about." I scribbled '_Internet Search Engine_' and handed it to them.  
  
"This is a trick, isn't it? A prank?" James asked.  
  
I shook my head. "On my honor, no. You can ask any muggleborn here, just use that phrase. I'm only suggesting Professor Potter because he's ... well, a professor." I indicated the gold, and asked, "Do we have a wager?"  
  
"I ... don't have that kind of money," James admitted.  
  
I smiled, and asked, "What's the smallest coin?"  
  
"A knut?" I slid the gold back in, then extracted one, giving it to Sprink. James and Karen each fished one out and gave them to Sprink. I pulled out my wand, and practiced the Leviosa charm on a spoon.  
  
------------------------  
  
"You're not flicking it right, Miss Wayne," Professor Flitwick said as he climbed on my bench. He took my hand in his, and moved me through the swish and flick. I gasped as the spoon rose, then dropped in the soup bowl.  
  
"Thank you, professor." I did it again, and he beamed.  
  
"I have had two of your housemates asking a very strange question, Miss Wayne. They said it was for a wager with you," I raised my eyebrow, and he added, "You can look up something as a muggle in a fraction of a second?"  
  
"On an Internet search engine, yes, sir. I found out this afternoon that Hogwarts isn't connected to the Internet, and I was very surprised. Most schools are connected, and I assumed Hogwarts, like the Salem Institute, was connected," I frowned. "My mistake."  
  
"What is this Internet thing? Why should we connect to it?" he asked, curious.  
  
"It's a global network of all human knowledge. Think of it as a global library in every language, only one you can search in a fraction of a second, sir."  
  
He blinked, and squeaked, "That's impossible."  
  
"Sir, what's the closest Muggle city?"  
  
"Inverness, why?"  
  
"Sir, with respect, it's not impossible. Ask any muggleborn, or go with Professor Potter to the Inverness public library. That's the wager - my housemates didn't believe me either."  
  
------------------------   
**Friday, September 4, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Great Hall   
**------------------------  
  
"Morning!" I said, as I sat down, pouring myself a cup of coffee. Karen looked at me, and rolled her eyes. I asked, "What?"  
  
"Professor Flitwick didn't believe you either," she said.  
  
"Okay, how about this? I suggested to him that he go with Professor Potter to Inverness, and see for himself. Once he does, then we'll settle the bet. Fair enough?" I blew on my coffee to cool it.  
  
"You're making a great deal out of a one-knut bet," she said.  
  
"Principal of the thing. Besides, I'm not looking forward to doing homework with fourteenth century methods," I said as I dished up eggs.  
  
"Why do you keep saying that, Mattie? This is the twentieth century," Karen asked.  
  
"Using a quill and parchment is twentieth century? Pass the toast, please." I fished around in my bag, and tossed something to Karen. "There you go. Ballpoint pen, it costs about ten knuts. Writes smoothly, lasts for months and months on the internal ink supply, has a variety of colors, and no risk of a spilled inkbottle. Click the little silver button on top to extend and retract the nib. Try it for one day, see what you think."  
  
"Only if you use a quill for a day," she said.  
  
"Deal," I said as I handed her my fountain pen, and pulled out Fawkes' feather from Diagon Alley. I looked through my bag, then asked, "Got an extra bottle of ink?"  
  
------------------------  
  
"Good morning, and welcome to your first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I'm Professor Potter, but you can call me Harry. Everyone else does." I chuckled, and he called the roll, sitting on a corner of a table. He took off his robes, and tossed them over a chair, then loosened his tie. "Now then. You can take notes if you want, but right now, all you need is your wand. You may be firsties, but I doubt you're all as innocent as they say you are." People laughed, and he continued, "Not too long ago, I was sitting in those same seats." He got up, and walked over to stand in front of me, "Miss Wayne, correct?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"You've got the staff room buzzing, you know. The Internet, and a one-knut bet," he chuckled. "Who knows, we may actually get it, thanks to you." He moved away, and added, "That's down the road. This class is Defense. It teaches you how to defend yourself against a magical attack. Who knows a spell?"  
  
I raised my hand, along with several others. Professor Potter pointed, and Charlie said, "incarcerous, sir."  
  
"Excellent. Go ahead. Use it on me."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
Professor Potter moved a chair over, and transfigured it into a lifelike figure with a pointed wand and long black robes. I blinked, and the professor said, "Here's our attacker. Five points if you can do it successfully to him, ten points if you do it to me."  
  
Charlie gulped, then pointed a shaking wand, and said, "i...incarcerous!"  
  
"Try it again without the stutter," the professor said gently. "You can do it."  
  
"Incarcerous!" ropes shot out and wrapped loosely around the chair. Professor Potter looked at them, said, "They're complete. Five points to Hufflepuff, Mr. Adams," he waved a hand and they vanished. "Want to try for another ten?" He tapped his chest and smiled. Charlie gulped, and called, "incarcerous!" and ropes wrapped loosely around the Professor.  
  
Professor Potter smiled, and said, "Excellent! They seem to be complete, so another ten points to Hufflepuff." He moved a finger, and they dissolved. Charlie groaned, and the professor said, "Sorry, Mr. Adams. However, this is one way to judge the relative strength of your opponent. Another is how fast they recover from a stunner. Miss Wayne, what was yours?"  
  
"Stupefy, sir." He nodded, and held out his arms wide. I held my breath, then called, "stupefy!" A red light came out of my wand, and hit his chest. He blinked, and shook his head, then smiled.  
  
"Excellent, Miss Wayne! Have you done this before?" I nodded, and he said, "I'll want the story, then. However, ten points to Slytherin!"  
  
"But, sir, you weren't knocked out! I didn't do it right!"  
  
"Yes, you did. Who was it before?"  
  
"Secretary Weasley," I mumbled.  
  
Professor Potter laughed, and asked, "You were with Ginny the other day, weren't you? When Fudge came by?" I nodded, and he said, "I never did thank you for your assistance that day, so I will now. Thank you, Miss Wayne." I nodded, and he asked the class, "Anyone willing to volunteer as a target for Miss Wayne?"  
  
The blond Hufflepuff I had sat next to the other day raised his hand, and the professor waved him up front. "Mr. Morton, isn't it?" he nodded, and the professor said, "One moment please," he said as he mumbled at the floor. He looked up, smiled, and said, "First off, ten points to Hufflepuff for volunteering, Mr. Morton. Now then, I've cast cushioning charms on the floor, so you don't hurt yourself when Miss Wayne hexes you. You can feel them if you walk over the floor." He nodded, and took a few steps. "I'll revive you after you've been hexed, so at most you'll have a slight headache. If you do, please let me know, and I'll take care of it." He addressed the class. "When Miss Wayne stuns Mr. Morton, I want her to note how much ... resistance she encounters in casting it. Then, Miss Wayne, I want you to hex me, and note the difference. This is what I mean when I say gauging the relative strength of your opponent. You may fire when ready, Miss Wayne."  
  
I took a breath, and called, "stupefy!" at Morton, and was surprised how easy it was. He thumped to the floor, and I aimed at the professor, and called "stupefy!" again. There was a lot more effort required, and it didn't seem to bother him.  
  
"Notice the difference?" I nodded, and he asked, "Want to play target?" I smiled and joined him while he called, "enervate!" on Mr. Morton. He helped him up, and then said, "Turnabout is fair play, Mr. Morton. If Miss Wayne will stand over on the padded floor, you can hex us. Note how much effort is required for each of us, and you may fire when ready."  
  
I looked at him over his pale ash wand, and smiled. He licked his lips, then called, "stupefy!" There was a red flash, and then the professor was helping me up.  
  
"Excellent! Let's see that's ten points each to Hufflepuff and Slytherin for our two volunteers. Mr. Morton, did you notice the difference in resistance?" He nodded, and the professor continued on. "I assume that our two volunteers also noticed the period of unconsciousness they suffered. The stunner can also be used medically, where a patient needs to remain under for transport or treatment. The target area for this spell is from the waist up to the top of the head." He moved his hand to demonstrate, and continued, "As you saw, the reversal spell is 'enervate'."  
  
He paced a bit, then said, "The ideal thing, though, is to disarm your opponent, then stun and bind him. Since he or she knows this, they will try to do the same thing to you. For those of you who don't know, we have a club called the 'DA' that meets every Tuesday night at seven. All houses are welcome, and I would strongly encourage you to practice with your housemates." He smiled, then said, "End of the telly adverts. Time for a bit more practice. Everyone out of your seats."  
  
With a couple finger flicks, he had moved the chairs to either side. He called, "Let's have Slytherin and Hufflepuff on the left here, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw on the right over there." We sorted ourselves, and he walked between us. "What we're going to do is the disarming spell, 'expelliarmus'. This will summon your opponent's weapon, usually a wand, to you. This is done from the dueling stance, edge on to your opponent, so as to minimize his target. Now, holster your wands, and repeat after me: 'ex-pel-ee-AR- mus'".  
  
"Ex-pel-ee-AR-mus" I said.  
  
"Excellent. Wands out, and ready. Five points to whoever does it successfully. On three. One. Two. Th ... "  
  
"Expelliarmus!" I called, aiming at one of the Cortez sisters.  
  
"Very good, everyone. Who got a wand?" I held one up, and he said, "Good. However, let me finish the word, first. Toss them back, and we'll go again. Ready? One. Two. Three!"  
  
"Expelliarmus!" I called, a little too late. My wand was jerked out of my hand, and I was shoved backward a step.  
  
"Good, good. Who's got a wand?" One of the Cortez twins waved mine, and Professor Potter smiled, and said, "Five points to those people. Toss 'em back, and we'll do it one more time. Ready? One. Two. Three!"  
  
"Expelliarmus!" I called, and got a wand in reply. I waved it, and got my five points. Tossing it back, I groaned when the professor said, "Enough fun for now. Homework. I want at least two feet on defensive spells by Friday after next. The common name and incantation, with any special requirements like body posture or wand movement. I want your definition of 'defensive spell', and if, **_IF_** you include an Unforgivable, I want reasoning that would stand in court."  
  
He frowned at us, then added, "Since I fully expect you to ask older students in your house, you will demonstrate some of your spells, so don't add a seventh-year spell just to look good," he grinned, and said, "You may need to show it to me." The bell rang, and he said, "One other thing for extra credit. If you can show me a spell I've never heard of, it's worth two hundred points. Enjoy lunch, and if you have a broom, please bring it to the pitch for your flying lesson at one." He waved his hand, and the door unlocked.  
  
------------------------  
  
I wandered down to the pitch with Sprink and some of the other firsties to see Professor Potter pulling brooms out of a small shed. He looked up and waved, and we walked over to him. He smiled, and asked, "Would you be kind enough to grab some brooms? I thought we'd set up in a circle over there." Sprink set her bag and broom down, and I set my bag next to hers.  
  
"All right. Is everyone next to a broom? Now, who here has never ridden a broom?" I raised my hand, and said, "It's very easy. Hold your right hand over the broom, about waist high, and tell it 'UP!'" He demonstrated, and his broom leapt into his hand.  
  
I told mine, "UP! UP! UP, damn you! UP!" It persisted in lying on the ground. I kicked it, and said, "UP!".  
  
"Doesn't want to go? Let me try." He let his broom hover, then told mine, "UP! UP!" It twitched a bit, but didn't move otherwise. He picked it up, then tossed it aside. "Try mine. DOWN!"  
  
"UP!" It jumped up, smacking my palm.  
  
He sighed, and said, "We need new school brooms." Moving out to the center of the circle, he said, "If you run your hand back toward the bristle end, you'll feel a cushioning charm. That's where your bum goes." People chuckled, and he continued, "Throw your right leg over the broom, so your weight is on the left leg and the broom." I did so, and he said, "Kick off from the ground, and you'll hover." The professor's broom seemed to almost quiver with excitement. "Both hands on the shaft, and lean your body to the right until you've turned right, then straighten up. You tilt your body in the direction you want to go. Turn until you're pointing to the right of the person in front of you." I did so, aiming at Sprink's right. The professor walked around, checking and correcting people.  
  
"All right. You accelerate by leaning forward, brake by leaning back. I want you to rise to no more than ten feet, and fly around the circle, no faster than a jog. Begin." I flew up a bit, then leaned forward, and the broom took off. I called "Whee!" and realized I was heading for a very large willow tree, whose branches started to move. I leaned, and screamed into a turn, overcorrected, then started to slalom back toward the class. I moved, and it took off, up and up and up, then I turned, and dove toward the ground, just barely pulling up as I flew toward the castle, barreling over the greenhouses. I twitched, called, "Yee ... Hah!", flew between the towers, turned and headed back toward the pitch. I managed to slow down enough to stop near the professor. I got off, told the broom, "DOWN!" and sat down next to it, panting.  
  
He came up, and asked, "How high did I say?"  
  
"Ten feet, sir, but I was going to hit the trees ..."  
  
He frowned, and said, "You could have braked. Ten points from Slytherin, for disobeying instructions." I nodded, and he extended a hand to help me up. I scooped up his broom, and reluctantly handed it back. He grinned, and said, "Good ride. Are you going out for Quidditch?"  
  
I blinked, and said, "My housemates think I'd make a good Seeker."  
  
He looked at my hands, then said with a grin, "The Gryffindor in me hopes you don't. He wants to keep the Quidditch Cup. The Professor in me thinks it would be a crying shame if you didn't. You'll need a decent broom. Mine's a Firebolt, top of the line racing broom, costs about 350 galleons. I'll talk to Professor Snape, if you like ..."  
  
"Thank you, sir ..." He smiled and moved off.  
  
Sprink landed next to me, and said, "What did he say? Are you expelled?"  
  
I shook my head. "No, he took ten points for disobeying instructions." She waved that away, and I continued, "He also thinks it would be a crying shame if I didn't try out for Quidditch." She grinned, and I added, "He mentioned the Gryffindor in him hopes I don't try out for Seeker, but he'll talk to Professor Snape about getting me a broom."  
  
"What kind does he have? Mine's a Cleansweep five," she asked.  
  
"Firebolt." Sprink choked a bit, and said, "God, those are expensive."  
  
Professor Potter called, "Everyone down for a moment." I turned and walked over to stand near him. He added, "I just have two quick announcements before dismissing you for the weekend. The first is that this flying class will run through the last Friday of October. Everyone should be up to speed by then. The second is tomorrow, about ten or so, here under the trees, a fellow named Harry Potter will be holding an informal seminar for the muggleborn on why witches and wizards do these strange things. Since it's a Saturday, and it's not a class, dress is casual. No skirts, no ties, jeans and trainers." He loosened his tie, and added, "If you're a wizardborn, and you want to wander by and join your friends, you're welcome. However, there are no houses, no professors, no students tomorrow." He held up his hands, and said, "End of announcements. If you want to fly a bit more, please put the brooms back in the shed when you're done. Stay away from the Whomping Willow that Miss Wayne narrowly missed and the Forbidden Forest, but aside from that, have fun."  
  
------------------------   
**Saturday, September 5, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Slytherin House, First year girls' dorm.   
**------------------------  
  
"Mattie, you gotta get up!" I heard rustling on my bed curtains, and I turned over. "Mattie! Come on, you'll oversleep!"  
  
"Gway, Sprink. Can't oversleep. 'Possible."  
  
"Mattie ... Breakfast ..." she crooned.  
  
"Sleep ... " I buried my face in the pillow.  
  
"It's quarter after nine, Mattie." I mumbled something, and she said, "You leave me no choice, then ...."  
  
"GAAAAAAA!" I sat up as cold water soaked me. She giggled and ran as I chased after her in my soaked nightie. "Susquehanna Tonks, when I catch you!" I screamed as I ran up the stairs to the common room. With a flying tackle, I grabbed her. "Hah! American football to the rescue! Prepare to die, you lousy Brit!" She tried to scramble away, and I twisted, trapping her on the rug.  
  
"You can't" (bang) "kill me" (bang) "without your" (bang) "wand!" she protested, my hands in her hair as I banged her head against the (carpeted) floor.  
  
"Shall I (bang) list the ways, Brit?" (bang) "Yanks don't need" (bang) "no steekin' wand to do" (bang) "you Tommies" (bang) "in!"  
  
"The Yank is correct, Miss Tonks," Professor Snape whispered. "However, it is rude for a guest to point that out, Miss Wayne. I would suggest you shower and dress for the day. Both of you also have quite a bit of homework to finish, which would be a more ... productive ... use of your time than attempted murder."  
  
I groaned, then stood, offering my hand to Sprink. She took it, and I twisted, pinning her in a block with my hand on her shoulder. I glanced up, and asked, "Mr. Pritchard, would you like to inform Miss Tonks what happens when I shake hands?"  
  
"I'm sure it would be most informative, Miss Wayne," the professor said. "Shower. **Now**." I nodded, and released Tonks, offering her my hand, which she dramatically cringed away from.  
  
"What did you do to Pritchard?" Tonks asked as we reentered the dorm. I dug through my trunk for fresh clothes and underwear, grabbing my shower gear. I just grinned, and waved as I walked into the shower.  
  
------------------------  
  
I gnawed on some sort of scone as I walked down to the pitch with Sprink. We were a few minutes late, so when Harry saw us and waved, he asked with a grin, "Mattie, how's the fourteenth century going?"  
  
"Somewhat up the arse," I answered, and he howled with laughter. I grinned, and Sprink punched me in the shoulder. I rubbed it dramatically, and glared at her.  
  
"Do you mind if I tell this, Mattie? You can fill in where appropriate." I waved my scone, and he grinned. "Mattie here has been waging a lonely fight in Slytherin for Internet access. I know we've all had a bit of ... frustration finding the right books in the library. When you told Professor Flitwick he could have access to all human knowledge, well ... " He grinned, and said, "I wonder what the reaction was in Ravenclaw."  
  
"Drooling excitement and disbelief," one of the Cortez sisters said.  
  
Sprink shook her head, and said, "I still don't believe it."  
  
"I could even tolerate using a quill if I could get my iMac to work," I said.  
  
"You've got one here?" Harry asked.  
  
I nodded, and said, "It worked in London, but not here."  
  
"Ah. That's the defensive charms. Let me look into that for you." I saw Ginny walk up to kiss Harry, and people went "Awww." Ginny grinned, and sat down next to Harry. He smiled, and said, "For those of you who don't know who this lovely young woman is, may I introduce Miss Virginia Weasley, my fiancée and Head Girl."  
  
"But what about the student-teacher thing?" someone asked.  
  
"He mentioned it when he took the post, so it's not a problem. We do like to tease him about it in the staff room, though." One of the witches I remember from the confrontation with Fudge ruffled Harry's hair and sat down. She smiled, and said, "Callista Vector. I teach Arithmancy, so I won't have you firsties for a few years yet." She sighed, and said, "This is pleasant."  
  
Charlie Adams said, "I did have a question, Pro..." Harry held up a hand, and he corrected it to, "err, Harry." He nodded, and Charlie said, "It's kinda stupid, but I don't see that many short-haired people."  
  
"It's actually a good question, Charlie," Harry said. He glanced at Ginny, and continued, "There are exceptions to the rules, but generally, it's a way to determine social status. The age of consent is seventeen. Unmarried men and women of legal age wear their hair long and unbound like Professor Dumbledore and Callista do. Since Ginny is engaged and over seventeen, she binds her hair in a simple ponytail. Once we marry, I'll bind mine back in a ponytail, and she'll wear a single braid. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, ties hers in a bun because she was engaged, but was not able to complete the ceremony. I won't intrude on her privacy by saying more than that."  
  
Ginny added, "What Harry is so diplomatically not saying is about the men in my family. Some of you may have met, or be aware of, my prat of a brother, Education Secretary Percy Weasley. Short hair on a man generally means that he is in his apprenticeship, or is a minor. If it's required short for safety reasons, it's simple enough to charm it long after work. Since hair charms are so easy to do, there's really no reason not to have long hair." She looked around, then asked, "Mattie, want to demonstrate? Come here." I walked over, then knelt facing them. Ginny smiled, then said, "Mattie's is a little past her shoulders. Tap your wand to your hair, and say 'follicus extensis'. Hold your wand on your hair for ten or twelve seconds. For each second you hold your wand, you'll get about an inch of length. To dry it after your shower, use 'follicus aris', and to change the color use 'follicus rechromis'. There's no reason to spend hours on your hair like the muggles do."  
  
Callista added, "The senior members of a wizarding family will have the longest hair. Professor Snape's is not long, because he's not the senior wizard of his family, and because he spends so much time over fires and cauldrons. Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick, on the other hand, are the senior wizards in their families, so they have long hair and beards. Professor McGonagall's hair, once it's unbound, goes to her knees. Harry should grow a beard, as he's the senior wizard of his family."  
  
"I tried. It just looks unshaven and messy," Harry complained.  
  
Ginny was quietly charming Harry's hair longer. In order to help distract him, I asked, "What's with quills instead of ballpoints?"  
  
------------------------  
  
"That's done!" I said, throwing my quill down, and blowing on the ink.  
  
"What, charms homework? Want to compare?" Sprink asked.  
  
"Sure. I was somewhat out of it that first class," I admitted, passing it over. I leaned back against the tree, squinting at Sprink's tiny, cramped handwriting. I moaned, "I want my computer ..."  
  
"The way you're going on about it, you'd think it's the best thing since a bread-slicing charm." She looked at me, then added, "I know. Fourteenth century..."  
  
"Longswords, duels over damsels in distress and arranged marriages. Gaa."  
  
"Hey there! Mind if we join you?" the Cortez twins asked.  
  
"Please. I'm suffering from computer withdrawal," I said. "Got your charms homework done?"  
  
"Ain't it the truth? She keeps trying to move her mouse when she studies."  
  
"I do not! It's a trackball." They glared at each other, then giggled. Sprink looked confused, and I passed over her homework. One of the twins (I couldn't tell which) fished out her homework, and we traded around.  
  
"So, what's this Occlu-thing like?" Sprink asked.  
  
"Occlumency," I said. I affected a mysterious tone, and said, "Ah, 'tis a deep, dark Slythie secret, those not of the Snake's Den are forbidden such dire knowledge!" I waggled my eyebrows, then casually added, "But you two are my fellow Yanks, so I've gotta tell you."  
  
"Of course, we have to kill them after," Sprink commented.  
  
"But it's so BORING being an Evil Dark Lady," I whined. "I wanna have fun!"  
  
"Tough," Sprink said in a low voice. "Part a' being a Slythie. You know we gotta do what we gotta do. Terribly sorry about this, girls, but we'll make it as painless as we can."  
  
"We don't learn painless killing spells until third year," I complained. "They're all really, really painful now. Every day, a new spell, new horrible screams. I'm glad we have good soundproofing in the common room."  
  
"We're running out of Gryffies, though," Sprink whined.  
  
"Well, there's always Hufflepuff," I mused. I couldn't help it, I couldn't keep my 'evil face' going, and I cracked up laughing.  
  
"What about Hufflepuff?" Charlie asked as he walked up.  
  
"They were asking about my Occlumency lessons," I said as he sat down. "Unfortunately, 'tis a deep, dark Slythie secret..." I shrieked as they threw things at me.  
  
"Okay, okay. Peace!" I waved my hands, and said, "It's actually kinda boring. I've only had one class so far. It's in Professor Dumbledore's office, and what we do is he tries to read my mind, and I try to block him."  
  
"He can read your mind?" Charlie asked.  
  
I leaned back. "Sure, but he has to be close, like arm's length, and there's a spell he uses to do it." One of the sisters made a 'come on' motion, and Sprink said, "What is it? A useful spell is a useful spell."  
  
"I'll tell if anyone's got anything on Professor Harry's assignment. I've got a brain cramp there."  
  
"The DADA? Yeah, I've got some thoughts."  
  
One of the twins passed me some pages, and I asked, "Mind if I copy these?" She waved, and I said, "Well, the spell Professor Dumbledore uses is 'legilmens'. He just points his wand, like this," I raised my arm like the Headmaster did, pointed at Sprink, and said "legilmens". A spark came out of my wand; Sprink went 'eep!' and collapsed.  
  
------------------------  
  
"Ohgodohgodohgod!" I tried to pick up Sprink, and screamed, "**_HELP_**!" With a 'pop!' Professor Potter appeared, and said, "What happened?"  
  
I babbled, "We were talking about the Occlumency class with the Headmaster and I was showing how he used this legilmens spell and a spark came out of my wand and I've killed her and ... "  
  
The twins grabbed me, and Professor Harry looked at Sprink, then said, "She's not dead. I'll take her to the infirmary. The rest of you, wait for me outside the Headmaster's office, and don't talk about this to anyone." I nodded, I was hyperventilating, and Charlie started to stuff things into book bags. Harry waved a finger, said, "pack", then vanished with Sprink.  
  
------------------------  
  
Harry strode up the corridor, snapped "Canary Creams" to the statue, and waved for us to follow him. He rapped on the door to the Headmaster's office, and we heard, "Come in, Harry." I swallowed, and sidled in.  
  
"How is Miss Tonks?" the Headmaster asked.  
  
"Madame Pomfrey says she'll be fine. Complete recovery." I exhaled, and Harry looked at me, then added, "Professor Snape is with her. I don't think any of this lot expected anything to happen, it was mostly surprise. Miss Tonks blames herself for badgering Miss Wayne."  
  
"I see." The Headmaster regarded us, then said, "I will be mentioning this to Professors Flitwick and Sprout. I hope you realize the importance of proper safeguards and training before attempting unknown magic."  
  
I raised my hand, and said, "Sir, its all my fault. I didn't have to demonstrate."  
  
"That is correct, Miss Wayne. While I can certainly understand the excitement of learning a new spell, training and safeguards are in place for a reason. In this case, you should have asked one of the fully trained Occlumens on staff - myself, Professor Snape, or Professor Potter. If your spell had gone wrong, the possibility exists of your damaging Miss Tonks' memory, possibly permanently." He looked at the others, then said, "Let this serve as a lesson to you. I will leave your fate in the hands of your Heads of House."  
  
I sighed, and said, "I'll go pack. It was nice knowing you all."  
  
"Are you going somewhere, Miss Wayne?"  
  
"You're expelling me, aren't you?"  
  
"Would you like me to? I do not see the need, but if you wish it, I shall."  
  
"Then ... what will happen?"  
  
The Headmaster gave me a stern look, "Since this happened to a member of your own house, I will leave that up to Professor Snape. I would expect him to assign at least a detention. However, there were no serious injuries or fatalities, nor were any laws broken, with the possible exception of common sense. Now then, if you wish to see for yourselves how Miss Tonks is doing, you may do so." He waved his hand, and I grabbed my bookbag and Tonks'. As I was going out the door, I heard him say, "Earlier and earlier every year, Harry ..."  
  
------------------------  
  
In the corridor, I asked, "Er, does anyone know how to get to the Infirmary?"  
  
Charlie said, "One of my housemates said you can ask the portraits if you get lost." He walked over to one, and said, "Excuse me. We need to visit a friend in the Infirmary."  
  
"Aha! A quest! Follow me, noble sir and fair maidens, and we shall seek out the blackguard who has your friend!" The little armored knight tried to mount his horse, but kept sliding off the barding. He had forgotten to finish saddling the horse, which turned its head to look at him, rolled its eyes, and resumed grazing.  
  
One of the twins snickered, but the knight picked himself up, waved his sword, and cried, "Onward! Onward, for King and Country!" Dashing off, he reappeared in the next painting (scattering the girls picking flowers, who screamed). I started to run, and asked Charlie, "I thought England had a Queen."  
  
------------------------  
  
It was a fairly short run, down the corridor and up a staircase (which fortunately stayed put) to the third floor. It seemed no matter where you went, you could find a hospital by the antiseptic smell. We walked in sedately, and the nurse bustled up. Charlie said, "We'd like to see Miss Tonks, please."  
  
"I was about to discharge her. Which one of you is Miss Wayne?" I raised my hand, and she sniffed, telling me, "I hope you've learned your lesson, young lady!"  
  
"Yes, ma'am. Professor Dumbledore was most emphatic."  
  
"I would think so. Memory charms are not to be fooled with. I am sure Professor Snape will wish to have a word with you." I nodded, and she waved, saying "End of the row on the left." She gave me a final sniff, and bustled off.  
  
I peeked around the bedcurtains, and saw Sprink. She waved, and said, "Oi! Come to see the poor, sick invalid off?"  
  
"Yeah, right," I sat down next to her on the bed, and quietly asked, "You see anything?"  
  
"Huge old stone house. You?"  
  
"That's my house. I saw a girl, mid twenties, spiky green hair with silver tips. A relative?"  
  
"Older sister. Wearing gold robes?" I nodded, and Sprink murmured, "Those are her Auror robes. Never wears them, 'cause she spilled something on the back, and there's this HUGE white streak from the arse down." I giggled, and Sprink said, "I love her, I do, but she's dead clumsy."  
  
------------------------  
  
I couldn't sleep that night. I finally sat up in bed, lighting my wand with a soft 'lumos'. I stared at nothing for a while, until a saw a small black mark. Peering at it, I saw the name of someone who had once knelt there as I did, wondering about her destiny.  
  
**Bella Black - 1971**  
  
------------------------ 


	6. Classes, Week Two, First Year

------------------------

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

------------------------

6 - Classes, Week Two, First Year

------------------------

****

Sunday, September 6, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Slytherin House, Common Room

------------------------

"Miss Wayne. My office. **Now**."

I stuck the quill in my Transfiguration text and slunk into Professor Snape's office. I stood and waited as he paced, then lowered himself behind his desk. He glared at me, then said, "Sit." He regarded me, then asked in his silky voice, "Are you aware of what the possible consequences of memory spell damage are?"

I swallowed, then said, "Professor Dumbledore said that I might have permanently damaged Spr … Miss Tonks' memory, sir."

He regarded me, then said, "You will write a formal letter of apology to Miss Tonks. You will give me the clinical history of two persons with memory spell damage. You will include cause, treatment and prognosis. You will give these to me no later than Friday noon. You will also report to me for a week's detention in my classroom at six p.m. Monday night. Is that clear?"

"Sir, I have Astronomy Monday night at ten."

"I am aware of this. You are dismissed."

------------------------

"So … What'd you get?" Karen asked.

"A week's detention with him at six p.m., I write a formal letter of apology to Sprink, and the clinical history of two persons with memory spell damage. Due Friday noon."

"When he says six, then, he means six. Not one second before or later," Karen warned. "It's also going to be tough with that clinical history, because of the privacy laws."

"So I can't do that?" I asked.

Karen shook her head. "It means that you dig up as much information as you can, and make a reasonable extrapolation. I'll give you your two persons, though. Gilderoy Lockhart and Neville Longbottom."

"Longbottom sounds familiar from somewhere," I mused.

"He just graduated. Neville teamed up with Blaise Zabini and Susan Bones in the big battle we had a month or so ago against the Dark Tosser. Bit ironic who they captured."

"Aunt Bella," Sprink said.

Karen leaned forward, and said, "Want the story?"

"Should I?"

Karen shrugged, "It's part of Slytherin history. Admittedly not one of the brighter bits, but there you go." I nodded, and she continued, "Back when Sprink's Aunt Bella was here at school, she somehow hooked up with the Dark Tosser. After Potter killed him the first time 'round, at age fifteen _bloody_ months …"

"Getting his famous scar!" Sprink chipped in.

Karen nodded, "Getting his scar. She went to visit the Longbottoms, Neville's parents, in search of information. They didn't have what she wanted, so in order to _convince_ them to talk …"

"And because she's psycho!"

"And because she's a obsessed, sadistic lunatic, she tortured them with the Cruciatus, in front of Neville. He was two or three, I think." A really big fellow sat next to me, extended his hand, and said, "Ian MacDonald. Seventh year and Beater. I can't speak for everyone, but I for one was glad to see some fresh blood when you were Sorted into the Den. The Dark Tosser and his toadies have cast a dark stain on our house that will take _years_ to eliminate."

"If ever," another really big fellow said. He smiled at me, and said, "Frank MacDonald, sixth year and the better looking brother of this lout. I'm the other Beater. Neville's family over did the memory charms on him, not that I blame them."

"So how does Tonks' Aunt Bella fit in with … oh, same person? But I thought someone named Lestrange was captured by Neville?" I asked.

"Aunt Bella's full name is Bellatrix Black Lestrange. She married a year or so after graduation, but it was a forced marriage, ordered by the Dark Tosser." Sprink said.

"She was captured by Neville, who's a Gryffie, Blaise Zabini of Slytherin, and Susan Bones of Hufflepuff," Ian said. "All members of the DA, who kicked the bloody Death Eaters _arse_!"

"Oh, lord," I said, and shuddered. Sprink looked at me, and I said, "I'll show you later." I cleared my throat, and asked, "Where were you during the battle?"

"With the Quidditch teams," Karen said. "It was amusing when both our primary and reserve teams showed up. I don't think the other houses expected us."

"Well, we had to get our robes. House pride and all. Still, I'm glad every one of us were there," Ian said.

"Except for Draco. He did his part, though, and died for it." Frank said. "Draco Malfoy, everyone!"

"**_DRACO!_**"

"So, what's the deal with this other fellow, Lockhart?" I asked.

"Bloody prat," Ian said. "Turns out he had copied other people's experiences, then memory charmed them an' took the credit. Tried to do a memory charm on Weasley, and it backfired, 'cause the wand was broken. Weasley couldn't afford a new one."

"This was Ron Weasley," Frank clarified. "There's a bloody great lot of Weasleys, all poor as churchmice."

"Ginny's all right, though. For a Gryff." Karen allowed. "She managed to bag Harry, too, and keep him with the competition the way it is." She sighed, then added, "We can fantasize, though."

"Only reason you lot of girls go to the DA, to moon over Harry," Ian jested. "You saw what Ginny's like with a wand when she's pissed, and Granger's been teaching her jinxes, I hear."

Frank shuddered theatrically, then asked me, "You going Tuesday night?"

I shook my head, "Detention with Professor Snape. Is the DA every week?"

Frank nodded, "Every week at seven, Tuesday nights. Just about the whole bloody school goes, and it's great bloody fun, too."

Professors Snape and Potter came in, Harry with a box. He stopped, and looked around, saying, "Good morning, everyone." He took a folded bit of parchment from his pocket, and stuck it to the common room's bulletin board with a wave of his finger. He nodded at it, and said, "Notice for the DA on Tuesday nights. I hope you'll all be there. I also have a present for Miss Wayne. Where is she?"

I was somewhat hidden by the high wingback chair, so I waved. He came over to me, and presented me with the small box. I looked at him, and he said, "This is an Arthurian transformer. It converts magical energy to electrical energy. The Headmaster has also agreed to a temporary modification of the appropriate defensive charms. You should be able to work your computer with this."

"Not until all her assignments are complete," Professor Snape said.

I sighed and nodded, and Professor Potter said, "Of course. I was unaware they weren't."

Professor Potter exited, and Professor Snape then posted a notice on the board. "We will be holding Quidditch tryouts on Saturday the 19th. We need two Chasers, a Seeker and Keeper on the primary team, a full team for reserve. If any one is interested," he smiled slightly. "Please list your name." He strode over to our table, and said, "Miss Wayne, your transformer, please. I wish to help you avoid … temptation. Miss Bundy, a moment?"

I grumbled a bit, but handed it over. Karen got up, and disappeared into the professor's office. Ian said, "Well, let's get cracking, girl. Karen said you were going to try for Seeker. If you want to play Quidditch, one of the professor's rules is that you need your immediate homework done before you play or practice. Besides, I want to see this bloody machine of yours. What's left, and what are you having problems with?"

"Besides the detention stuff, I've got my final revision for potions, Transfiguration and DADA," I said. "That's not due for another week, though. Transfiguration is really giving me headaches."

Sprink said, "I'll go get the references for your detention from the library," and she started to shove her stuff in her bookbag.

Ian asked, "Frank, can you look over her potions paper?"

Frank said, "Sure, although you're loads better at Transfig than I am. When is that due?"

"Wednesday afternoon. It just doesn't seem to make any _sense_!"

"Don't worry about it, little sis. We'll help."

------------------------

"AARGH! I'm never going to get this!" I was trying to transfigure a teapot into a teacup with matching saucer, but the best, the BEST I was able to do was a lumpy … _thing_ with a wide bottom and a spout on top.

"You've got th' incantation down fine. Your wand movement is correct, you shouldn'a have any problems with it," Ian said. He flicked his wand, resetting it, and said, "What are you thinkin' while you're doing it? Are you concentrating?"

"I keep thinking how many physical laws this is breaking," I admitted. "Conservation of mass, quantum state, molecular conversion …"

"All muggle science?" Ian asked. I nodded, and he said, "I'll wager tha' your problem, lil' sis. You're not breakin' any _magical_ laws. Nae, try this. Close your eyes, think of this as just a new part o' the muggle laws ye know. THEN try it again."

I nodded, closed my eyes, and thought. _Physics and subatomic structure has some really weird laws. Could they fit in with quarks and substring theory? Maybe if …_

"THERE YOU GO!"

I snapped my eyes open, and looked at it. It wasn't perfect, and instead of a floral pattern on white bone china, it was gray and black camouflage, with a yellow handle. Hideously ugly, but it was a teacup and saucer. I touched it, and it was hot. Ian reset it, then said, "Again, lil' sis."

Closing my eyes again, I thought, _It was hot to the touch. That means thermal transfer of some kind. Could it be …_

"See? I knew ye could do it! I can' say much for your taste, but ye did it!"

I looked at it. This attempt was somewhat different, more of a coffee mug and saucer, still in the camouflage pattern with yellow handle. _Why the difference?_ I wondered. "Reset it, please. I'd like to try one more time. I'm wondering why there's a difference."

"And a colour shift, too."

"Hmm." _I wonder if there's a book on the theory behind this? Probably. Now the first time, I was thinking about quarks. Could the different particles connect to the different shapes?_ I thought.

"Teacup again." Ian looked at me, then asked, "What are you thinking about when you do it? Can you do it with your eyes open?"

"I'm thinking about quarks." Ian scratched his head with his wand in confusion, then reset it back to the floral teapot. I looked at the blasted thing, then moved my wand, and it was a teacup. Still camouflage, but a teacup. I looked at it, then wondered, _Maybe flavors of quarks?_ and tapped the teacup. It immediately started to cycle through the different colors of the spectrum. Ian watched it for a second, then tapped it with his wand.

"Very interesting. What were you thinking of then?" Frank asked.

"Different flavors of quarks. Ian, is there a book on Transfiguration theory?"

"Several. I'd talk to McGonagall, and I won't even _ask_ what the bloody hell a quark is!"

------------------------

Frank handed me the potions assignment, and said, "You might want to talk to the Professor about this. I've marked what I know, but I'm not familiar with this _chemistry_ you're referring to."

I looked at him, then asked, "What are the basic building blocks of matter in the magical world?" He blinked, and I said, "A gold goblet might contain water. The water is made up of two elements, hydrogen and oxygen, which has certain properties, like gold has certain properties. When you combine them in different ways, they have different properties."

He looked at me, then said slowly, "Like a brass cauldron and a silver cauldron. Each would affect a potion in different ways." I nodded, and he said, "A gold cauldron would have a third effect on that potion."

I nodded, "Silver and gold are elements, a pure form. Brass is a mixture of two or more elements."

"Like alchemy." James said, joining us. "It's an elective, but I don't know when Professor Dumbledore last taught it."

"My head hurts thinking muggles are teaching bloody alchemy to kids," Frank said.

I giggled, and said, "Let's get lunch. I'm hungry."

"Wait a minute! Let me put this away, and we'll join you," Karen called. She came out of Professor Snape's office with a book at least ten inches thick. Frank and Ian stopped, and looked at it, and she said, "Yes, that's it."

"Um, what is it?" I asked.

"The Slytherin Quidditch playbook," Frank whispered in a reverent tone. "Tha' means …"

Karen nodded, "Keep it quiet for now. We don't want the other houses to know yet, but yes, I'm team captain."

While we waited for Karen to return, I asked, "Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Miss Wayne?"

"Sir, may I have a few moments of your time this afternoon? I asked Frank to check my homework, and he suggested you were the best person to answer some questions I had regarding chemistry and alchemy."

"One o'clock. What is the status of the rest of your homework?"

"I've been going over Transfiguration with Ian, and it works, almost. I can't keep the color to stay, and I was hoping to ask Professor McGonagall about that," he nodded, and I continued, "Sprink said she'd get the references for my detention, so I still need to get that done. My charms homework is done, and DADA isn't due until next Friday, sir."

"Adequate. I will ask Minerva for you at lunch."

------------------------

"Post's here!" someone said, and I looked up to see the usual storm of owls. One circled, then landed in front of me. I stroked its head and told it, "Hello. May I?" It hooted, and held out its leg. I untied the letter, it took a drink of water, hooted again, and flew off.

Friday, September 4, 1998

Dear Mattie,

It's only been a few days, and we already miss you. Please don't worry about the problem in the sub-basement, steps are being taken to handle things on your side of the Pond (as Alfred might say). The American side is already finished.

In his last note, Professor Snape enclosed a permission slip for Quidditch. It's signed, and you need to pass it back to him. From what I understand, it sounds like it's no more dangerous than a Friday night out with the clan.

Please study hard, but don't forget to have fun.

Love,

Mom and Dad

PS: Dad has transferred another $10,000 into your account for Quidditch. If that's not enough for proper outfitting, please let us know.

"Cool," I said. "I've got a permission slip for Quidditch, and Dad's transferred some funds for my equipment."

"You'll need the full kit. How much have you got?" Ian asked.

I shrugged, and tapped my Gringott's bag. It showed 3424/0/23, so I asked, "A little over 3400 galleons. Is that enough?"

Ian spat pumpkin juice, and said, "For the whole bloody _school_!"

Karen said, "The problem is that some bits of kit have to be personally fitted, which means a trip to Quality Quidditch in Diagon Alley. When you see the Professor at one, give him your permission slip, and mention that you need to make a shopping trip."

"Assuming she makes the team," Frank said.

"From what I heard, she pulled off a beautiful Wronski Feint in her first flying class," Karen smiled. "I'm not worried."

"Did I hear the term 'Wronski Feint'?" Professor McGonagall asked, "When are your tryouts?"

"The 19th, Professor," Karen said. "When is Gryffindor's?"

"The next day. Of course, we didn't lose as many people to graduation as you did. Harry also said you have a natural aptitude for flying, Miss Wayne." I smiled, and the professor tapped Ian and said, "Budge over, there," and he shifted to give her room.

"Now then, Miss Wayne. Severus said you had some questions about the assignment, and that Mr. MacDonald here suggested you see me," She sat down, and said, "Let me see what you can do." With her wand, she transfigured a pitcher of milk into a teapot.

"Yes, ma'am. When I follow the instructions from class, I get this," and tapped the teapot with my wand. A rather conical white china teapot resulted. The professor nodded, and tapped it with hers to restore it. "However, when I think about it a different way," I tapped again, and the black and gray tea set appeared, "I get this."

"Most interesting. What are you thinking about to get the gray set?" Ian groaned, and the professor shot him a look.

"Quarks, ma'am. If I think about the different flavors, I get this," and tapped it again. The colors started to cycle again, and I tapped it with my wand. The tea set stayed a beautiful sky blue.

"What I cannae figure out is why the colour change, professor," Ian said.

"That is most unusual. What are your family colours, Miss Wayne?" the professor tapped it again, resetting it to the teapot.

"Gray and black, with yellow accent, ma'am."

"A possible reason, magic does follow along bloodlines," the professor mused. "We'll try it with traded wands," and handed hers to me. I concentrated, and got the conical pot again. The professor tapped it with mine, and it reset. I thought of my quarks, and got gray and black, with yellow handles. A last tap and it transfigured back to a milk pitcher. We traded wands back, and she told me, "You're still ahead of some students from my house. For now, I'll accept this, but I would like to know why the colour shift."

"If ye figure it out, tell me, please, professor," Ian asked. She gave a slight smile, then excused herself.

------------------------

I tapped my wand on the Professor's office door at precisely one o'clock. The door opened, and he called, "Enter, Miss Wayne, and have a seat."

The door closed behind me, and I said, "Good afternoon, professor. I have a bit of news from home that I should mention. Firstly, I have a permission slip for Quidditch, and I received a letter from home regarding that … little problem."

I handed him Mom's letter and my permission slip. He examined the slip, then turned to put it in a file with others. Glancing over the letter, he asked, "Who is Alfred, and what is the 'sub-basement'?"

"Alfred was my step-grandfather, who was originally from England. The sub-basement is a family reference for my parent's … other jobs," I explained. "If I make the team, sir, I'll need to get some shopping done, especially a broom." I smiled, and said, "I'd like to get a broom, even if I don't make the team, sir."

He handed my letter back, and said, "I will inform the other three of this new information. I saw Minerva discussing your assignment with you, was she able to resolve it?"

"Not completely, sir. However, she did say she would accept it for now. I need to write the final draft of that homework, which should be done this afternoon."

He nodded, and said, "Mr. MacDonald was unable to resolve your questions regarding my assignment?"

"Yes, sir. I have had some training in chemistry, and the closest potions seem to come is alchemy. My understanding is that it's an elective that is not offered that often. For one thing, I would like to know the properties each potion ingredient offers. Is there such a thing as a periodic chart for potion ingredients?"

"Your two textbooks offer a generalized one, however, I believe you are looking for a more comprehensive one." He scribbled on a bit of paper, and added, "You may owl Flourish and Blotts for these volumes. The first is somewhat rare, they may not have it in stock. Until then, let me see your draft as Mr. MacDonald revised it." I pulled it out, and passed it over.

He mused over it, twirling his quill in his fingers. He jotted a few notes, and crossed out something. He passed it back, telling me, "You have the concept down. Work on integrating your existing knowledge with these properties. Give me a clean copy on Tuesday, and I will look into a shopping trip after our tryouts." I nodded, and he added, "For my reference, please request from your parents a comprehensive listing of skills you have been trained in, including those related to the … 'sub basement'."

"Yes, sir. This and the Transfiguration assignment will be done this afternoon. I then plan to work on the detention assignments," I looked at him, and asked, "Is there any chance of a shopping trip to muggle London, sir?"

"Unlikely. Why?"

"I'd like to get some early Christmas shopping done, sir. I also have some equipment that needs to be modified to work in both a magical and muggle environment."

"We shall see. Regarding your more … _specialized_ equipment, I would suggest you contact the Weasley twins for modifications." I nodded, and he added, "If there are no further questions, you are dismissed."

------------------------

Sunday, September 6, 1998

Dear Mom and Dad,

I received your letter of the fourth today, and have passed on the permission slip to Professor Snape. The extra money is welcome, and should prove adequate in equipping me for Quidditch. We will probably have a shopping trip after tryouts on the nineteenth. I have also informed him of developments regarding the sub-basement, and he asked for a comprehensive list of my education and training. I'm glad that problem is being handled.

Classes are going as well as can be expected. My housemates have been very helpful in deciphering some of the more obscure problems for me.

I'd better get back to the homework! Love to everyone, and say hello to Aunt Barbara and Uncle Dick!

Your loving daughter,   
Mattie

I folded it, and wrapped a hair for tamper detection in the letter, then sealed and addressed the envelope:

Bruce & Selina Wayne   
Wayne Manor,   
Gotham City, USA   
c/o Ministry of Magic, Mail transfer office,   
London, UK

I then wrote a quick note:

Messrs. Fred and George Weasley   
Weasley Wizard Wheezes   
40 Diagon Alley, London

Dear Sirs,

You may not remember me, but your sister Ginny and friend Mr. Potter introduced me to you during my school-shopping trip a few weeks ago (the little Yank with short black hair).

I have some muggle equipment of a very sensitive nature that needs to be converted to operate in both muggle and magical environments. Professor Snape referred me to your services.

I will hopefully be able to visit the Alley for a Quidditch-shopping trip after our tryouts on the 19th. If you are not interested in this work, I would appreciate a referral.

Please let me know if you have any questions by return owl. I would also appreciate a copy of your current catalog.

Sincerely,

Mattie Wayne   
Slytherin House

PS: Mr. Potter asked me to include this phrase: "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Another:

Quality Quidditch Supplies   
23 Diagon Alley, London

To Whom It May Concern:

Please send me a comprehensive catalog, including broom listings. I am trying out for the Seeker position on my house team.

Sincerely,   
Mattie Wayne  
Slytherin House

And the last:

Manager, Book Orders   
Flourish and Blotts   
31 Diagon Alley, London

My head of house, Professor Snape, has recommended I purchase the following volumes:

Comprehensive potion ingredients, complete set, latest edition   
Obscure potion charms, spells, hexes and jinxes, complete set, latest edition   
Alchemy: an introduction, complete set, latest edition

I understand there may be a delay on the Alchemy volumes. I would also appreciate any information you have on a large bookbag with built-in expansion and lightening charms.

Please bill my Gringott's account #174750, not to exceed 100 galleons without my authorization. Please include a detailed invoice with my order.

Sincerely

Miss Mattie Wayne,   
Slytherin House

I looked up, and said, "I need to send some mail. Can someone tell me how to get hold of an owl?"

Karen said, "Give me a minute to finish this letter home, and I'll show you where the Owlery is. All local?"

I shrugged, "One's to the Ministry, to transfer back home. The other three are to Diagon Alley. Professor Snape suggested I order some books and equipment."

------------------------

As we were leaving the Owlery, Ginny entered. She smiled, and asked, "How are things going, Mattie? Going out for Quidditch?"

"I don't know … it looks _awfully_ dangerous …" I said, then grinned, and added, "Sure. It looks like fun. Maybe that, um, Chaser thingie?"

"Chaser thingie?" Karen sighed theatrically, then asked, "Tell me the Gryffs have it better this year, Ginny!"

"The quality sure has gone down since we started, hasn't it, Karen? It used to be players didn't complain about a bit of rain or snow, or if the game ran long. But now, NOW, the game is in a thunderstorm or blizzard, or lasts a week or two, and it's all whinging, it is!"

------------------------

****

Monday, September 7, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Great Hall

------------------------

"Come _on_, Sprink! We're gonna be late for Herbology!" I said.

"Coming, I'm coming!" She stuffed things in her bag, and followed me as I ran to catch up with the other firsties heading down toward the greenhouses. As we entered Greenhouse One, I lined up next to a long bed of plants. As the bell struck nine, Professor Sprout came out of her office, and smiled at us.

"Good morning, and welcome to Herbology! Let me call the roll, and we'll get right down to it. Also, dears, if any of you have an allergy, please let me know. Now, let's get dirty! Charlie Adams? … "

" … and Mattie Wayne?"

"Here, ma'am." I waved, and the professor said, "I'd like to see you after class, Miss Wayne," I sighed, and nodded. _Am I going to get this from every professor?_ I wondered.

------------------------

" …Oh, my. Look at the time! Homework, dears, the odd questions at the ends of chapters one and two, and read chapters three and four for next week. Wash up, and have a good afternoon!" Professor Sprout moved off, back to her office, and I followed, knocking on the open door frame.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?" I asked.

"Oh, my, yes. Have a seat and shut the door, would you please, dear?" The professor took a large, thick book, with a seal or logo on the front, and stuffed it in what looked like a muggle file cabinet, sliding the drawer closed. My eyes widened briefly, then I sat up straight, and looked at the professor attentively. She turned to face me and sat, saying, "Now then, dearie. I presume Severus has gone over the possible consequences of misfired memory spells?"

------------------------

I sat next to Karen, and asked, "I have a Quidditch question."

"Sure, Mattie, what is it?"

"Right now, you, Frank and Ian are the only current team members, right?" She nodded, and I asked, "Can you get them over here, and cast one of those privacy spells?" She gave me a finger to tell me to 'wait one', then moved off to collect them.

After Karen had cast the privacy spell, I asked, "Would a copy of Hufflepuff's Quidditch playbook be useful?" Karen almost fainted, and Frank caught her, while Ian muttered, "_Obscurus_". I grinned, and said, "I thought so. If it's the book I think it is, I know where it is right now. If I can break in, I can copy it, but I'll need help, and I've got my first detention with Professor Snape tonight."

Ian said, "He's in his office right now. Grab your things, and we'll meet outside his office."

------------------------

Karen knocked, and I heard the professor say, "Enter." He raised his eyebrow, and said, "What do you want?"

Ian said, "Professor, we have a Quidditch dilemma. Would you ward the door?" With a flick of his wand, he did so, and Ian continued, "Mattie has a possible location of the Hufflepuff Quidditch playbook, but she has detention with you tonight, sir."

"Explain, Miss Wayne," he asked.

I nodded, and said, "Professor Sprout asked me to see her after class. When I went to see her, she put away a very thick book that looked similar to the one you gave Karen. It had a logo on the front, and a pale yellow cover."

The professor tapped a sheet of paper, and a logo appeared. "Did it look like this?" he asked. I looked at it, and nodded.

"Sounds like their book," Frank breathed.

"Sir, this is a target of opportunity, only good for a short time. We do not know when or if it's been moved. I can break in, copy the book with '_Duplicus Totalis'_, replace it, and they'll never know I was there. However, I have two problems."

"Detention with me, tonight. What else?" the professor asked.

"I'll need someone to neutralize any magical defenses, and then restore them exactly the same way. I don't know how to do that yet, sir."

"I can do that, sir," Ian said.

"If I agree to this, why send you instead of Mr. MacDonald?" the professor asked.

"Two reasons, sir. You know what my mother's profession is. I know her tricks, and I have the right equipment here. Secondly, and no offense to Ian, but he moves like a drunken elephant."

"None taken, lil' sis. I'd like to know what your mother's profession _is_, though," Ian said.

The professor raised his eyebrow at me, and I nodded. He said, "Professional thief, Mr. MacDonald." Karen began to giggle, and I smiled.

"What is your plan, Miss Wayne?"

------------------------

At six p.m. sharp, I knocked on the door of Professor Snape's classroom for my detention. I heard people passing say, "Poor kid, detention with _Snape_." I heard a "Come", and entered.

"Miss Wayne." The professor locked the door, and asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir. I've got my clothing and equipment in my bag, and I'll meet Ian at the greenhouses at eight forty five."

"You should have nautical twilight by then. There is a meeting of the Heads at nine in the Headmaster's office. I shall try to delay it as long as possible. How long do you anticipate this taking?"

"The muggle defenses I saw were pitiful. The magical, I don't know. Based solely on the muggle, no more than twenty minutes. I don't know how long _Duplicus_ will take, though. How long would it take to get through your defenses, sir?"

"I am rather more paranoid than Professor Sprout. Her more valuable plants are in a different greenhouse, which is more heavily warded. Assume … an hour for her defenses. As for mine, they would take several hours to get through, and a good bit of power. Total would be … ninety minutes, shall we assume? I shall endeavor to stretch the meeting until eleven, then."

I nodded, and then asked, "What about Professor Sinestra's Astronomy class, sir?"

He gave a faint smile. "She is a good Slytherin, and will accept your 'detention' tonight with me. Next week, however, you will be in class." He glanced at the clock. "You are ostensibly scrubbing cauldrons. However, I do not wish to damage your hands. Work on your homework until eight thirty."

------------------------

The clock chimed at eight thirty, and I looked up. Professor Snape finished writing on a scroll, then said, "I will leave you to change. Knock on my office door when you are ready, and I'll let you out."

I started to pull equipment out of my bag, and said, "Thank you, sir, but that's not necessary. I can let myself out."

"I have not given you the password for the door."

I smiled, "Sir, how many entrances are there to this room?"

"Two, why?"

I shook my head, and said with a smile, "Six, sir." I motioned, and said, "The four air vents. If you would turn your back for a moment, please?" He did so, and I quickly shed the school skirt, socks, blouse and shoes, pulling the black outfit into place. I buckled the equipment belt, then said, "Thank you, sir. May I leave this here?"

"Behind my desk. After you return, and wish to make a _normal_ exit, use the password '_Serpensortia_'". I nodded, put the mouthguard in (my teeth tend to chatter) and pulled down my mask, then swarmed up the stone walls, pausing a moment to open and slide through the air vent. I paused to reseat the ventilation grille, then slithered off.

------------------------

I checked Ian's location, to make sure he hadn't been followed, then slithered up and cupped my hand over his mouth. He started, and I pulled up the mask, and spit out the mouthguard. "It's me. Did you think I'd leave you?"

He relaxed, and looked at me, "I can barely see ye, lil' sis. You ready?"

"Almost. I've checked, but can you detect anyone inside, or any defensive spells?"

"Let me check again." He waved his wand, then said "No."

"Watch the door. I'll open it from inside." I reinserted the mouthguard, then reconsidered and spat it out again, "Ian. Put these gloves on."

"Why?"

"Fingerprints. Watch the door." I moved off, reinserting the mouthpiece while Ian struggled with the latex gloves. Scampering up a drainpipe, I squeezed through an open vent in the roof, climbed across the ceiling, then dropped to the gravel walk next to the door. I checked the door for alarms, then opened it. Ian sidled in, and I closed it. Putting my finger across my lips for silence, he nodded. I tapped my holstered wand, and moved my finger, and Ian nodded. He waved it, mumbling something, then smiled.

I scampered over to Professor Sprout's office door, and stopped a few feet away. Ian waved his wand and held up his hand to stop. I waited while he worked. Finally, with a sparkle in the air, he waved me forward. I pulled out my picks, and had the door open in seconds. I stopped, and Ian repeated his scan, motioning me to wait again. Once again, the sparkle died, and we moved forward. I closed the door after us, then pointed at the professor's file cabinet, and waved my finger. Ian checked, and smiled again. I popped the lock, and gently pulled the drawer open. It squeaked a bit, and Ian started.

I held up my hand, and sprayed a bit of silicon on the drawer tracks. I noted the position of the book, and checked for any traps. Waving Ian over, he checked for traps, then motioned for me to go ahead. He smiled, and I pulled it out, laying it on a clear area. I pulled off my hood and spat out my mouthpiece, then smiled.

"It does look like it, lil' sis," he whispered. He checked the book for traps, and then said "What next?"

I smiled. "We each copy it, then I replace it exactly, and we back out the same way, step by step. We'll talk once we're outside." He nodded, and motioned 'after you'. I whispered, _"Duplicus Totalis_" as I tapped the book. My wand glowed for about thirty seconds, then went out. I waved at Ian, and he copied it as well. I gently picked it up, replacing it, then gently closing and locking the cabinet. I reset a piece of paper that had been knocked out of alignment, then motioned for him to get to work.

------------------------

Outside, Ian sat on the ground to rest. He grinned at me, and said as he pulled off his gloves, "By Merlin, are they always that difficult!"

I shook my head, and replied with a grin, "No, this job was _too_ easy, it could be a fake or a trap. We're not done yet. We split up now, and make our way back to the common room. I'll meet you there." I vanished into the night.

Keeping an eye on Ian, I distracted Ginny and Shadow with thrown pebbles, as they were about to catch him. I crawled through a vent, re-entering the Potions classroom to get my bookbag. The professor had left me a note with a small vial on top:

Put one drop on each hand and rub together for the appearance of blistered, cracked hands.   
SS

I smiled, changed, then placed the note and vial on his desk, the note turned over, to show I had read it, and followed instructions. Whispering '_Serpensortia_', I left the classroom.

------------------------

Karen looked at me as I came in, and said, "Where have you been?"

"Detention, scrubbing cauldrons." I showed my hands, and she smiled. "That's too bad. Did you have a good night, otherwise?

"A very _easy_ night. Where's Ian?"

"Showering. Shall we wait for him?"

------------------------

In a private corner of our library, Ian said, "Go on, lil' sis. We couldna have done this without you." I took a breath, then tapped my wand to the stack of paper. We watched as the stack glowed, then a book appeared.

Karen gave a little 'yip' of excitement, but I held up a hand. "Check it for authenticity, it could be a fake. See if it's got genuine Hufflepuff tactics and intelligence on our tactics. Are there any spells on it? Don't make assumptions."

"Sorry." Karen said, "You're right, of course. I got caught up in the moment. We don't play them until May, so we've got time. Their first game is against Ravenclaw on November 28, we'll see how well it matches up."

"What if they make changes? Ian, can you link that update spell to the original?" I asked.

"I think so, but there may be an alarm for that type of spell," Ian said.

Frank said, "We can research that. Let's keep this quiet. Just the four of us, and Professor Snape."

Karen nodded. "Our first game is against the Gryffies. Let me get our book, we'll compare what we know against what Hufflepuff says about them."

"Here's ours." Karen said, as she plumped down the book. Frank flipped to the Gryffie section, while Karen did the same. "Hmm. Ginny's Seeker, no surprise there. She was reserve Seeker while Harry was primary last year. She's the last Weasley here, it used to be almost their entire family played on the Gryffie team."

"Good players?" I asked.

The others nodded, and Karen said, "The Weasley twins are infamous, not only for their pranks, but because they were excellent Beaters. They could have gone pro. Fortunately for us, she's the last one until an older brother has a kid. Let's see what else is here…"

------------------------

****

Tuesday, September 8, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Great Hall

------------------------

"Pass the eggs, please," someone said. I passed them on, and Frank asked, "What do you firsties have this morning?"

"History of Magic," Sprink said.

"Take something else wit' you," he said. "As long as you whisper, he'll ignore you. Binns is the only ghost instructor, he's deadly dull, and he hasn't updated his syllabus since _before_ he died. I only know of _one_ person that's gotten an OWL in History, and that's Granger. She got one in _every_ course she took." He shook his head, "Amazing student, but a bloody know-it-all."

------------------------

The pearly instructor floated through the blackboard, and said in a monotone, "Good afternoon, and welcome back to History. We will be covering more recent events. In 1503, Alferta the Flatulent was presented a dilemma when she assumed the Goblin throne. As we covered in our last class…" There was a 'thunk' and a head hit the desk, a snore issuing from the drooling mouth.

Sprink passed me a note: '_Three HOURS of this?_'   
I scribbled, '_Work on your Herbology. It's not like Binns is paying attention to us. How's the rest of your stuff?_'   
'_It's OK. Can I copy some of your stuff?_'   
'_If you want to, but I've got enough muggle stuff in mine that it may not work for you. Besides, I need to finish my detention stuff._'   
'_Yes, I heard. Scrubbing cauldrons with Professor Snape. Only four more nights, though._'   
I shrugged, and replied, '_Very educational._'

A Gryffie on Sprink's right passed her a note. She nodded, and dug about in her bag, extracting her Charms assignment, and scribbling a note back. She leaned over and whispered to me, "What's that copy spell?"   
"'_Duplicus_' for a single sheet, '_Duplicus Totalis_' for everything." I whispered back.

Binns droned on, "…arguments for integrating the first kingdom into the second were as follows: First…"

Charlie Adams passed me a note. '_Heard you got a detention with Snape. How's it going?_'   
I showed him my hands, and scribbled, '_Scrubbing cauldrons until 10:30 last night. How's your homework going? Anything for DADA?'   
'Yeah. You got Charms done? What's that copy spell?'   
'Duplicus' = single sheet, 'Duplicus Totalis' = everything'_ I scribbled. '_Trade?_'

"…However, the countervailing arguments were as follows. First…"

------------------------

I munched on a carrot, and passed Sprink my DADA homework. "Copy your notes onto the bottom of that, and I'll go make copies for the twins and Charlie. Come up with a rationale for using an Unforgivable?"

Ian spit out his tea, and asked, "Why would you want to use a bloody Unforgivable?"

"According to Professor Harry, there's a reason to use one. I can't think of one, though."

"Neither can I, and I don't want to risk Azkaban to find out," he said. "Stick with ones like '_Protegro_' for defense."

"Ooh, goodie! I don't have that one!" Sprink said as she jotted it down.

------------------------

"Settle down, settle down. Pass your homework forward." Professor Snape walked along the row, collecting the assignments, and dumping them on his desk. "Today, we will be continuing with useful personal potions. This particular one is used for various dry, itchy skin conditions, as well as various plant based contact poisons. What is the ingredient that counteracts dry skin, Miss …Wayne?"

"Infusion of sandalwood, sir."

"Strength, Mr. Adams?"

"Ten percent of the base, sir."

"In a base mixture of … Miss Tonks?"

"Milk, preferably, sir."

"Other base, Miss Cortez? Either one?"

"Distilled water, at fifteen percent strength, sir."

He gazed at us, then tapped his wand on the blackboard. The formula appeared, and he snapped, "Begin."

------------------------

I tapped on Professor Snape's classroom door at precisely six p.m. He called "Enter", and then said, "Miss Wayne, punctual as always." He waved his wand, sealing the door, and inquired, "Your hands?"

"They are fine, sir, thank you for asking. Will I be scrubbing cauldrons tonight, sir?"

"Ostensibly, but only if you wish to. Tonight I thought we might discuss various spells that would be useful for events like last evening's." I grinned, and he said, "Have you contacted the Weasley twins yet?"

"I owled them Sunday, sir, but I haven't heard back from them yet." He nodded, and I added, "I'm going to regret saying this, sir, but I do think I should scrub at least a couple, for accuracy's sake."

"Very perspicuous. Do those in the sink while we talk." I took off my robes, and rolled up my sleeves as he said, "In honesty, how long have you been pursuing your mother's career?"

"Only the last few years at my previous school, and never for profit. I did so only when there was … justice to be served. I never changed a fair grade, either, sir."

"A matter of personal honor, then. Muggle schools keep grades on one of these … computers?"

I nodded. "Security is only as good as the weakest link, sir, and in nine of ten cases, that's the human in the chain. For instance, they might choose a password of … their husband's name, and then leave mail from him on the desk. People are fundamentally lazy, sir."

"So I've noticed," he said dryly. "What observations have you made regarding Hogwarts?"

"Sir, with a bit more training, this castle is wide open to me. My major deficiency is the spells and charms. Physical security is, for me at least, almost non-existent. Professor Sprout only had _three_ locks protecting that book. Three!"

"How would you protect it?" he asked.

"If it could stay in a static location, with an assortment of physical monitors, mantraps, passwords and paralysis spells like '_stupefy'_, sir. With it mobile, a changing assortment of hiding places and obscuring spells, as well as passwords." I shrugged, "Even then, it's not a guarantee. You still need to access it, which is a security hole. If you don't access it, then it's of no value to you."

"Most interesting. Use '_scourgify_' to clean those, and we'll begin."

------------------------

****

Wednesday, September 9, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Great Hall

------------------------

"Good morning, everyone!" I told people as I sat down.

"Why are you so chipper during the week, and so bloody hard to get up on the weekend?" Sprink asked, nursing a cup of coffee.

"Some of us just live right," I said. Frank snorted, and I said, "Seriously, exercise, meditation, and knowing how to move and breathe right does wonders."

"BREATHE right? Ian said.

I nodded, and lowered my voice. "When we were out the other night, you were sweating like you had run a marathon. I tracked you in, deflected Ginny off your scent, got my stuff out of the professor's office, and then came to the common room. Karen, what shape was I in?"

"Calm and relaxed, not a hair out of place."

"Ian, when I broke into Greenhouse one, how long was I gone?"

"Thirty seconds, maybe. How'd you do that?"

"Climbed the side of the building, across the glass roof, through a ventilation shaft, across the ceiling and down next to the door." The bell rang, and I said, "I'll talk about this tonight, if you want. I've got to run to Charms."

------------------------

"… and Miss Wayne." I waved, and Professor Flitwick said, "Oh, there you are. Please see me after class, Miss Wayne." I nodded, and he said, "Pass up your homework, please, everyone."

The bell rang, and the professor said, "Homework, everyone! The even questions for chapters five and six, and practice the Bubble-Head and Cheering charms for next week!" I scribbled that down, then made my way to the front of the class. Sprink waited for me, and Professor Flitwick smiled, and said, "By now you've probably had every professor in Hogwarts asking you about memory charms, haven't you, Miss Wayne?"

I smiled somewhat, and said, "Yes, sir."

"Well, then I won't repeat it. I'd just like you to know that Ha …Professor Potter and I will be making a trip to Inverness sometime this weekend. I'm quite looking forward to seeing this Internet thing. Any suggestions?"

"Time will just fly by sir, so you might want to have only two or three things to look up. The Internet is somewhat addictive, at least for me. Also, the problem is not finding one or two gold nuggets, like in our library, but _grading_, and finding the best ones of the thousands of nuggets you do find on the Internet." I thought a minute, and added, "You might want to bring a muggle pen and paper, sir. I find it's handy for making notes."

As we walked to lunch, Sprink said, "Now I'm looking forward to seeing this!"

------------------------

The bell rang, and Professor McGonagall called, "Pass up your homework, please. How did everyone do on his or her teacups? I know several people had problems." She waved her wand, and everyone had a teapot. She said, "Mr. Adams, let's start with you."

------------------------

At six p.m. sharp, I tapped on the professor's classroom door. He called, "Enter, Miss Wayne."

I put down my bag and shrugged off my robes as the door locked, saying, "Good evening, professor. I wanted to hand in the letter to Miss Tonks." I fished it out of my bag, and he took it, twirling his quill. After a minute, he said, "Acceptable. The clinical history reports?"

"I have a rough draft, sir. It needs polishing, though." He waved to me, and I passed it to him. This took quite a bit longer, even though it was only twenty pages.

"Expand the bibliography, tighten it up and give me a clean copy. If you can do so by Thursday evening, you may have your transformer back." I smiled, and he asked, "What were you discussing at breakfast?"

"Spr … Miss Tonks was wondering why I was so chipper during the week, and so groggy during the weekend, sir. I mentioned that I meditated, exercised and breathed right, but the bell rang before we could get into it."

"I see. Elucidate, please."

I moved to a table, and sat on it in a yoga position, "Sir, most people breathe through the lungs. You should properly breathe from the diaphragm, which increases the oxygen in the blood, giving you more energy. I do an hour of meditation and stretching exercises, so I get up at three, to exercise, shower and dress, and I then have three or four hours to study in the common room before the others stumble in. However, that sleep debt needs to be paid, so I go to bed early and sleep in on the weekends."

"Hmm. What do you do to exercise? Run?"

"I prefer to run, sir. However, I have to leave the dorm in order to do so. Usually, though, I do isometric exercises in the common room, which don't take as much room." He looked blank, so I smiled slightly and said, "Stretching and toning exercises. Resistance exercises against the walls. Is there a gymnasium here, sir?"

"There is, but I believe it is somewhat out of date. You would probably be better suited to use the Room of Requirement." I looked at him, and he added, "A room that will become whatever is required. You have merely to imagine it. The DA meets there on Tuesday evenings."

------------------------

Apparently my exercises and katas unnerved the professor. He pursed his lips in thought, then said, "I would not wish to oppose you on a dark street, Miss Wayne. Your clan utilizes these same techniques?"

"Professor, I would not last more than a minute in a brawl against my parents, or any of my clan." I smiled, then said, "Would you like to find out?"

"How so?"

"Simple, professor. With your permission, I'll try to grab your wand before you hex me."

"Agreeable. '_Ric…_'"

I sprang, snatched the wand, then rolled with it in my hand. I tossed it back to him, and asked, "Which was that?"

"The tickling charm, '_rictusempra_'. You are aware that most of the staff here can perform some wandless magic?" I nodded, and he asked, "You say that you would not last more than a minute in a brawl?"

"Against my clan, no, sir. Against a street criminal?" I flipped a chair up, and punched a hole in midair with a knuckle strike. I smiled, and added, "People underestimate me, sir."

"I shall endeavor not to do so again, Miss Wayne."

------------------------

****

Thursday, September 10, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office

------------------------

"Good morning, Professor." I turned, and said, "Good morning to you, Mr. Hat."

The Hat replied, "Thank you, my dear, and a good morning to you." It added, "Such a polite young woman, Albus. I do believe she'll perform wondrous things."

"As do I. A good morning to you also, Miss Wayne. How do you feel?"

"Slightly nervous, sir."

"Ah. Because of last week?" I nodded, and he looked at me over his spectacles, and asked, "Do you plan to repeat the experience?"

"No, sir!"

"And if you decide to play a prank or two, you'll seek out those more experienced, I would wager?" I smiled, and he chuckled, saying, "I daresay I will find out in good time. How is Miss Tonks?"

"Slightly jealous, sir. Not everyone gets private lessons with the Headmaster."

"True, true." He sighed, then said, "I do miss teaching, the stimulus of young minds, the challenge as they explore." He sighed again, then said, "Now, all I get is dreary bookwork and the occasional pupil such as yourself that I can winkle away from the staff. Ah, well," he smiled at me, "Shall we begin?"

------------------------

The clock chimed the half, and we both sat back in our armchairs. The Headmaster looked a bit sad when he said, "That's the week's lesson, then."

"You look like you'd like to continue, Professor."

"Yes, yes, I would. Tell me, Miss Wayne, how are your parents and the … problem that we uncovered?"

"The last letter I had told me that it was being handled, Professor, but nothing more detailed than that. Aside from that, they enclosed a permission slip for Quidditch." I blushed, and said, "My housemates think I'd make a good Seeker."

"Well, if you do make the Slytherin team, my dear, I wish you well."

"He mentioned that he'd like to see a faculty game. Did you play, sir?"

"Yes, I Chased for Gryffindor starting in my second year. 1852 it was. Ravenclaw took the house cup, but Hufflepuff took the Quidditch cup, as I recall." He smiled, and added sadly, "Just a bit too old for that now, I'm afraid. We were in a rebuilding year, just as Slytherin is now."

The door opened without invitation, and Minister Fudge bustled in, followed by his two toadies. I stood, and said with a warm smile, "Thank you for the lesson, Professor, and have a nice day. You too, Mr. Hat." I nodded at the three newcomers, and left.

------------------------

"Settle down, settle down," Professor Snape said as the classroom door slammed. "Pass your homework forward." He collected the homework, and dumped it on his desk. "Today, we continue with general household potions. This is a general cleanser suitable for food surfaces, such as washing dishes. It is _not_ to be used for scrubbing the loo." He tapped the board, and said, "Begin."

------------------------

At precisely six o'clock, I tapped on Professor Snape's classroom door. I heard 'Enter' and the door swung wide. It closed behind me, and I smiled, "Good evening, Professor. Will we be continuing with the stealth and tracking spells?"

------------------------

****

Friday, September 11, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom

------------------------

"Good morning, everyone. Let's see who we have with us today." He tossed his robes aside, and loosened his tie. He added, "Miss Giles from Ravenclaw is out sick today. I most emphatically DO NOT want you practicing these spells. I will go over these with her privately. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" I looked around, and nodded.

"Good. I have discussed this lesson with Professor Dumbledore, and gotten his consent. We believe that you should have the correct information about these spells. There is too much misinformation floating about. However, YOU WILL NOT USE THESE SPELLS."

I had never seen Professor Potter this way. Charlie raised his hand, and asked, "Sir, are these the…" he swallowed, "the Unforgivables?"

"Yes, Mr. Adams, these are the Unforgivables. They will earn you a one-way trip to Azkaban prison FOR LIFE if used on another human." He looked around, and said, "I've been to Azkaban. Its on a little tiny rock far out to sea. It is a thoroughly depressing place. There is no hope, no joy and no sunshine on Azkaban. It is a gray, gloomy place. I was there for a few hours, and I wanted to kill myself. They confiscate visitor's wands, both to prevent escapes, and so people don't use the Killing Curse on themselves. People go mad within weeks of being sentenced there. My godfather was sentenced there."

He was quiet for a minute, then took a breath, and said, "This will not be a pleasant class. I know people in this room that have relatives that have been, or are, in Azkaban. To eliminate any preconceptions you may have, they are not all from Slytherin. I know them from all four houses." He sighed, and said, "My apologies to the Slytherins. If anyone has a weak stomach, you are excused for the infirmary. Before we begin, does anyone have questions?"

He removed a cloth that had been draped over a table, revealing three rats in wire cages. He selected a white rat, and said, "This is the first, the Imperious Curse. This is the only one that is possible to throw off, with a large amount of willpower. I have been under it, and have managed to throw it off. Using this curse, you can make your subject do literally _anything_, including kill. To your subject, your orders seem like the most logical, common sense thing in the world. There is no time limit on this spell, it will go until cancelled." He pointed his wand at the rat, and said, '_imperio_'.

The rat stood on its hind legs, bowed, then did a modified dance step, including twirls and kicks. The professor let it go on, then said, '_finite incantatum_'. He set the huddled, shivering rat aside. He addressed the class, saying, "This is also the only one I have permission from the Ministry to demonstrate on a human. I will not make you do anything embarrassing. Do I have a volunteer?"

Sprink hesitantly raised a hand. The professor smiled, and motioned her up front, telling her, "You don't have to answer this, but would you like to give a reason for volunteering?"

"I … I wanted to see what my Aunt did to people. Sir."

"All right. I won't ask anything else. The way to throw this off is to keep telling yourself that the command is the most stupid, idiotic, insane idea you've ever heard of." Sprink smiled weakly, and the professor asked, "Still want to do it?" She nodded, and the professor snapped his fingers, and music came on. "I'm going to have you sing the school song. Even if you don't know it, the verses will be in your head, because I know it. I'll go three times 'round. Try to fight it, and here we go. '_imperio_'."

Sprink sang in a pleasant alto:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_   
_Teach us something, please,_   
_Whether we be old and bald_   
_Or young with scabby knees,_   
_Our heads could do with filling_   
_With some interesting stuff,_   
_For now they're bare and full of air,_   
_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_   
_So teach us things worth knowing,_   
_Bring back what we've forgot,_   
_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_   
_And learn until our brains all rot."_

She took a breath, and continued,

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_   
_Teach us something, please,_   
_Whether we be old and bald_   
_Or young with scabby knees,_   
_Our heads could do with filling_   
_With some interesting stuff,_

For … this is silly, and I can't sing!

Now … Now they're bare and full of air,   
_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_   
_So teach us things worth knowing,_   
_Bring back what we've forgot,_   
_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_   
_And learn until our brains all rot."_

With a third breath, she sang,

"Oh this is stupid, please don't make me sing,

I'll die of embarrassment, Oh Merlin I'm an idiot.

Whether we be old and bald   
_Or young with scabby knees,_   
_Our heads could do with filling_   
_With some interesting stuff,_   
_For now they're bare and full of air,_   
_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_   
_So teach us things worth knowing,_   
_Bring back what we've forgot,_   
_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_   
_And learn until our brains all rot."_

"_Finite Incantatum._ A round of applause for Miss Tonks! That was excellent! You managed to fight back and even skip several lines! Let's see, she skipped four lines, so I think a round two hundred points for Miss Tonks and Slytherin." He held up his hand, and said, "That is the only one I am doing, and I will repeat myself. DO NOT USE THESE SPELLS. Even in fun, this is very serious, and we are not playing games."

"Who wrote that song?" someone asked.

"I have no idea, but I'm glad the whole school didn't sing it at the welcoming feast."

"Oh, Harry, it's not that bad," the Headmaster said as he came forward. "It's quite a catchy little tune." He turned to face us, and said, "I know that some of you are thinking that this would make a nice prank. Please be assured that WE WILL KNOW if you use these spells, and you will not like Azkaban. Your age will not be a factor, nor will your excuse that 'It was only a joke!' You have been warned."

The headmaster left, and the professor took a deep breath, and then said, "The next one is the Cruciatus. This is used to torture by changing the blood acidity, meaning your blood will eat away at your organs and veins. It is time sensitive, meaning it lasts as long as you hold the spell. Voldemort has used this on me, and I will tell you, a few seconds feels like an eternity. You pray for death." He looked around, and said, "Once again, I will offer the option of the infirmary. This will not be at all pleasant. Any takers?"

There was a horrible, breathless anticipation as he moved the second white rat forward. It seemed to know something was going to happen, and skittered madly about its cage. He closed his eyes, then held his wand and said, "CRUCIO!"

The rat made a horrible, keening cry, and collapsed; its legs and tail twitching, its body spasming. After what seemed an eternity, it stopped. Harry put his wand down, and rested his face in his hands.

"Professor? Professor Harry?" someone said.

He took a deep breath, then said, "At least you're the last ones I have to do this with." He shoved back from the table, then reached to a small bottle. "This is post-cruciatus potion. It helps to repair the… the damage." He took the eyedropper out, then cradled the rat against his chest, and murmured, "I know it hurts. I'm sorry. This will help. Come on, take some. That's it. A little more…"

"Professor, how long was that? It seemed like forever."

He continued to nurse the rat, and said, "I know. I held it for five seconds." He asked the rat, "Feeling better now? Let me put you back." He turned to face us, and said, "There is a trick to successfully casting the cruciatus curse. I will _not_ tell you what it is, because even the attempt will land you in Azkaban."

He moved to slide the third, gray rat forward, turned to face us, and said, "This is the last one, and I for one am glad it's almost over. This is the Killing Curse, '_avada kedavra_'."

He took a breath, then said, "There is no way to block this curse, no way to deflect it. If you're lucky, you can dodge it. There is only one known survivor. Me." He held up his hand, and said, "I have no idea how, although there are several theories." He brushed back his hair, and said, "It got me this curse scar, which I assume is the point of impact. I don't know for sure, I was only fifteen months old when Voldemort tried to kill me." People flinched at the name. "Ready? Here we go…" The rat collapsed, and Harry said, "That's funny. I haven't done anything yet." He took the rat out of the cage to look at it, then sucked in a breath. He put the rat on the table, then said, '_revelo animagi_'" A short, pudgy man with thinning hair appeared on the table, and Professor Harry roared, "**_STUPEFY!_**"

Holding his wand on the unconscious man, he said, "I need three people to take a message. Miss Tonks, to Professor Snape. Mr. Leaddore, go to Professor McGonagall, and Miss Wayne go to Professor Dumbledore. Tell them that I have Pettigrew at wandpoint." He waited, then snapped, "He's a Death Eater! **_MOVE!_**" I scrambled out of my seat, and ran.

"_Canary Creams_!" I shouted at the statue, then ran up the stairs, and burst into the Headmaster's office. "Headmaster, Harry has Pettigrew at wandpoint! He wants you!" I turned and ran, and he ran after me.

Professor Snape was there with his wand aimed at Pettigrew. Professor McGonagall ran in shortly after the Headmaster and I arrived. After they had their wands pointed, Professor Harry called, "_'ravelous sticus'_, then _'mobilicorpus'_ to float him into a chair. With the other three holding their wands on the now naked Pettigrew, Professor Harry flicked his wand, levitating Pettigrew's left arm, and said, and "You may be wondering how I recognized the rat as Pettigrew. The rat had a metal right front paw, like Pettigrew has a metal right arm. I was there when Pettigrew reincarnated Voldemort. Pettigrew is a rat animagus, which means he can turn into an animal form. Lastly, if you look at Pettigrew's left arm, you'll see what looks like a tattoo. That's the Dark Mark, which looks like this." He flicked his wand, and a sketch of a skull with a snake coming from his mouth appeared on the board. He lowered Pettigrew's arm, then said, "_incarcerous mettalicus_", and steel chains wrapped Pettigrew.

Dumbledore said, "Harry, if I might use your fire, I will call Kingsley Shacklebolt about Mr. Pettigrew."

------------------------

After Pettigrew had been taken out, Professor Harry sat on a table, and said, "I don't know about you people, but I vote to start the weekend a bit early. I could use a flight to clear my head. Anyone else up for a picnic on the Quidditch pitch instead of facing the Great Hall?" He smiled, then called, "Dobby?"

With a 'pop' a small creature with a pencil-like nose and bat ears appeared, squeaking, "Yes, Master Harry? What can Dobby do for his Master Harry?"

"Dobby, could you get a picnic lunch for forty or so and bring it to the Quidditch pitch in ten minutes or so?" He turned to the class, and said, "Just in case you might be wondering if Dobby is under the Imperious: '_finite incantatum'_". Nothing happened, and Harry asked, "Dobby?"

"Dobby is happy to serve his Master Harry!" with a 'pop' he vanished.

Harry said, "Dobby is a House Elf. There are about a hundred at Hogwarts, and they refuse to change that phraseology. They are the ones who do the cooking, cleaning, laundry and bed-making here. You'll study them with Professor Hagrid when you have Care of Magical Creatures in third year." He shifted, and said, "Another useful spell for all of you: the summoning charm, '_accio_'. Just tack on what you want, like this: '_accio_ _firebolt_'." Harry's broom came zooming out of his office, and he added, "By the time we get to the pitch, the food will be there."

------------------------

****

Saturday, September 12, 1998:   
Hogwarts, Slytherin House, First year girls' dorm.

------------------------

"Um, hello," a soft voice said.

I looked up from my thoughts, and the head of a ghost poked through my bedcurtains. I smiled, and said, "Hello. I don't think there's any risk to invite you in. You don't plan to, um, possess me or anything, do you?"

"No. I don't even know how." He grinned slightly, floated through the curtains, and added, "I'm still new at being dead. Wow, that's a weird sentence." He offered his hand, saying, "Draco Malfoy."

"Mattie Wayne." I shook hands, then said, "Eucch."

"I agree. Your hand felt like … hot fudge." He looked at me, then added, "From your expression, it was a similar experience for you."

"Like … half-melted ice cream. I'm not getting any sense of cold from you, though."

Draco nodded, then asked, "This is going to sound stupid, but what's the date?"

I checked my watch, then said, "Just after midnight, so it's Saturday, September 12th. What do you remember?"

"Last thing? A flash of green light from my father's wand, and a whooshing sound." He paused, then said, "That BASTARD! He killed me!" I heard an interruption in Sprink's snores, and I said, "Shhh!" He kept grumbling, "Killed by my own father …"

"Draco!" I whispered, and touched his shoulder. He looked at me, and I said, "I've got to know. The question everyone wants to know…"

"What it's like to die?" He nodded, then said, "I did too. It didn't hurt, but it's like I just, um, woke up from a deep sleep. No sense of time, really, but about two months have passed. Wow." He scratched his head, then said, "Everything's a range of gray. No colors. This is a dorm at Hogwarts, but aside from that?"

"Slytherin, first year girl's dorm. For what it's worth, the Headmaster told us what you did at the welcoming feast. A lot of people miss you."

"That's good to know. Obviously, Potter won, and the Headmaster's alive, but what else? How many died?"

"Total of four, including you, from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Four Death Eaters, including Riddle. A few serious injuries."

He relaxed for a minute, then asked with a tone of dread, "Was one of them Blaise? Blaise Zabini?"

I shook my head, and he relaxed. "Purple eyes?" He nodded, and I continued, "No, she captured some woman named Lestrange, and is now running her father's apothecary. I got my potion stuff from her."

He closed his eyes for a minute, then asked, "Who died?"

"A teacher named Hooch, a lady named Rosemerta, and some other guy nobody ever heard of. For the Death Eaters, besides what's his name, there was a father and son named Goyle, and some guy named Nott."

Draco closed his eyes in relief, and whispered, "Thank Merlin, my plan worked."

"Plan?"

"Not fun, plotting to betray housemates to the other side. Especially when everyone else is running their own four or five sided schemes at the same time." He looked at me, and asked, "How did you get sorted into the Snake's Den?"

"It was a tossup for the Hat between us and Gryffindor. I think it got pissed at my Occlumency. I took twenty minutes to Sort." He grinned, then I asked, "Who do you want me to tell about your, um, reappearance?"

"Dumbledore. Professor Snape. You can trust both of them. What's Potter doing now, and could you write a letter for me to Blaise? I, um, I can't hold anything solid yet."

"Harry's a professor now. DADA." Draco nodded, and I said, "I don't mind. Was she a girlfriend?"

"Yeah. We hoped to marry, but in order for our plan to work, we had to have a nasty, public, split. She got the 'good' snakes, and I got the Junior Death Eaters." He sighed, and said, "The things we had to do. At least she's safe. Anyway, just those four for now, please."

"Let me get a pen and paper."

------------------------

Saturday, September 12, 1998

Miss Blaise Zabini  
c/o Zabini Apothecary  
20 Knockturn Alley, London

Miss Zabini,

I'm writing this for Draco Malfoy, who appeared in my dorm this morning. If you'd like to reply to him, I'll pass on messages, as he can't hold solid materials, being a ghost.

Mattie Wayne  
Slytherin House

Blaisling,

I love you, and I miss you so. I wish I could hold you, but I can't even pick up a quill. I'll learn, but for now Mattie was nice enough to agree to serve as our intermediary.

I understand you captured Bella. Hopefully you weren't injured, she's a nasty one. She claims to actually enjoy crucio! Fortunately, you didn't have to deal with her except at wandpoint. Lucky you!

I'm pathetic. There's so much I want to tell you, and I can't articulate it. All I can talk about is that bloody battle. Yeah, the Dark Tosser defined our generation, but I wanted so much more for us. Marriage, kids, the whole lot. Right now, I just want to run my hands through your hair and kiss you senseless, like we used to do.

I want to apologize for the nasty things I said to you. I hope you realize that I didn't mean it, but if we were going to save lives, we had to break up. Merlin, that HURT! Now, I've gone and hurt you again by dying on you. I'm sorry about that. At least I didn't suffer.

If I can figure out how to travel, I'll come to see you. If not, can you come to the Quidditch games? We play the Gryffs November seventh, and we can have some private time.

Mattie's a not-so-innocent firstie, and it's after midnight. She needs her sleep, so I'll close now. Write soon, love.

All my love,

Your dragon.

------------------------


	7. Classes, Week Three, First Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

A/N: This will be the last full week I'll write for a while. Like JKR, I'll move on to separate chapters for important events in the school year later. Jessie Tickes of Jas. W. Tickes & Sons, clocksmiths, is used with permission.  
PS: I _know_ email addies don't display correctly. This is the best I could get QuickEdit to take!

------------------------

------------------------

7 - Classes, Week Three, First Year

------------------------  
**_Sunday, September 13, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin House, First year girl's dorm  
_**------------------------

"Mattie, get up! You'll oversleep!"

"Gway, Sprink. Bother some'ne else."

"Mattie, you know we're the only Firstie girls in Slytherin. C'mon … Breakfast…" she crooned.

"Sleep … " I buried my face in the pillow.

"It's half past nine, Mattie," she said. "If you don't get up, I'm stealing your transformer…" she crooned.

"Y'wouldn't dare, y'lousy Brit. Scrubbin' cauldrons…" I mumbled. "Okay, I'm up…"

"Not until I see you out here, you're not. Let's see what else you have in your trunk…" I heard latches being opened, and I scrambled out of bed, only to see Sprink across the room, sitting and flipping the latches on HER trunk. I glared, and she said, "Got you up!"

"That was evil. I'll get you for that," I said.

"We're s'posed to be evil. We're snakes, dummy!"

I snorted at this, gave her a final glare, and dug out my shower things.

------------------------

Breakfast wasn't very crowded. The two Cortez sisters visited us at the Slytherin table, along with Charlie Adams and the Morton fellow from Hufflepuff. Sprink smiled, and said, "Good morning!", motioning them to take a seat. I looked at them over my coffee cup, and Sprink said, "Don't mind Mattie. She's a grump on weekends. What can we do for you?"

Morton cleared his throat, and said, "I was wondering if I could join your study group. We seem to be mostly muggleborn, here, and…"

"'Cept for me," Sprink said. "Tell us about yourself."

"Well, um, Arthur Morton, from Columbus, Ohio, my dad works for Federal Express and mom works at the university."

"Another Yank? Got our vote!" Roshawn (or was it Shaundra?), said.

I put down my coffee cup. "Yanks have to stick together here, with all these Brits," I said with a grin. "Besides the New Yorkers, here, I thought I was the only other one. Mattie Wayne, from Gotham City."

"Gotham? I've heard … isn't there?" I raised my eyebrow, and he whispered, "the Batman?"

I shook my head. "Never seen him. I think he's an urban legend, like the alligators in the New York sewers." I added, "We do have the Gotham Knights. Is that what you mean?"

"What are you bloody Yanks on about?" Charlie asked.

"Hometowns." I said, and asked, "What have you got for Professor Harry's class on Friday? That's the only thing I've got left to finish."

"How'd you get all that done, and can I copy it?" Sprink asked.

I drained my coffee, and said, "I stayed up late last night. Let's meet down by the lake, okay?"

------------------------

I passed around my Charms homework, and asked, "So what's everyone got for DADA? Anyone come up with a new charm or spell?" I scratched my back against the tree's bark.

Arthur said, "Yeah, although I don't see how it relates to DADA. Remember, Professor Harry didn't say it had to. Just a new spell."

Sprink groaned, and said, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Lack of coffee?" I asked. She threw a quill at me. I tossed it back, and asked, "Anyone come up with a usage for an Unforgivable?"

"What did the Imperious feel like?" Roshawn (I think) asked Sprink.

"It was weird. I was thinking about my Astronomy homework, and then Professor Harry cast the spell, and I didn't have a worry in the world. All I wanted to do was make him happy, and I knew that if I sang that stupid song, I would." She shrugged, and said, "So I did, and then I remembered what he said about fighting it, so I kept repeating to myself, 'This is stupid!' I can see how you can get someone to do anything with it."

"There was Astronomy homework?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. You had detention last week. Sorry, I forgot!" Sprink said sheepishly. She dug around in her bag, and passed me some pages. "You have to cast the star chart at the time and place of your birth."

"You FORGOT?" I glared at Sprink, then glanced at the pages and said, "Hey, these are all for the UK. What about the US?"

"Here, these tables are for New York," Shaundra said. "You could probably use them for Gotham. When's your birthday?"

"May 31. Thanks." I copied them, and passed them back, then started to look them over. Roshawn passed me hers, saying, "We're June sixth, so we're close."

"'Cept Mercury does something or other, and Venus retrogrades, I think." Charlie shrugged, and said, "All I know about it is looking up my horoscope in the Daily Mail."

"They've got faster orbits, I think," Shaundra said. "If you figure back a week from ours on those two, you should be okay. The latitude and longitude should be close enough."

"How closely does she want that plotted? It's not like we have access to GPS," I asked.

"GPS?" Sprink asked.

"Global Positioning System," Charlie said. "It's a system the Yanks use for their military to navigate. Supposed to be accurate to a few meters anywhere on the planet."

"Hogwarts is supposed to be Unplottable," Sprink said. "According to Mum, that means you can't put it on a map."

"What about Hogsmeade, though?" Arthur asked. "Hogwarts isn't that far from Hogsmeade." He motioned across the lake, and said, "Just figure a quarter mile or so north, and there you go."

Sprink blinked, then said, "I … don't know." She looked up, and said, "Hey, owls! Post's here!"

"They're going in the Great Hall. They'll miss us out here," I said.

"Owls are smart, they'll know where we are," Sprink said. "See? Some are heading this way."

Two of them landed next to the twins, and Charlie asked, "How can they tell you two apart?" An owl landed next to him, and hooted. Arthur chuckled, and an owl landed next to him.

A flock landed next to me, including four with a large package. One enormous gray owl stalked over to me, wearing a Zabini Apothecary medallion on his chest. He gazed at me with his yellow eyes, and I told him, "Hello. Do you have something from Blaise?" He blinked, then solemnly held out his leg. A bit of parchment was wrapped around a longer scroll.

Saturday, September 12, 1998

Mattie Wayne  
Slytherin House

Dear Mattie,

Thank you, thank you, thank you! It seems inadequate, but if there's anything I can ever do to thank you for reuniting me with Draco, you have only to ask.

I've attached a scroll for Draco. I definitely plan to be at Hogwarts for your Quidditch game against the Gryffs, although I don't know if I'll actually attend the game, if you know what I mean. Best of luck in any event.

Draco may not be aware of it, but his mother is now working at Hogwarts, as a mediwitch in the Infirmary: Narcissa Black.

Once again, I am in your debt,

Ms. Blaise Zabini

I told the owl, "Thank you. I'll reply with the other letter." He blinked and took off, and another waddled up to me.

September 12, 1998

Miss Mattie Wayne  
Slytherin House

Miss Wayne,

Please accept our apologies for the delay in replying to you. A copy of our latest catalog is included, as is a complementary copy of 'Hogwarts for mischief-makers'. We also pay a 5% commission on prank ideas, 7% on prototypes, and 10% on production pranks.

Regarding your equipment, **SNAPE** recommended us? Are we talking about the same bloke? Tall, batlike, hooked nose, greasy hair, lives over a cauldron? When we get our hearts restarted, we'll be more than happy to discuss (in private) your needs. Please come by when you're in the Alley Quidditch-shopping.

While we wish you the best of luck, we hope you don't mind our saying that we'll always be Gryffindor supporters (especially with our sister Seeking). We're sure you understand.

Sincerely,  
Fred and George Weasley  
Weasley Wizard Wheezes  
40 Diagon Alley, London

P.S. You're sure it was SNAPE?

I giggled, and told the owl, "Thank you. I'll be seeing them shortly." It hooted and flew off, and another came up.

Mattie Wayne  
Slytherin House

Miss Wayne:

Please find enclosed a copy of our comprehensive catalog. Seeker equipment is listed on pages 18-42. I have also enclosed a copy of our broomstick pricing flyer, and this year's comparison reprint from 'Which Broomstick'. Please note that we have received a few of the new Firebolt II model, and deposits and layaway on it are available. A specification sheet is included.

Sincerely,

Charlie Wickham  
Quality Quidditch Supplies  
23 Diagon Alley, London

I looked up, and said, "Sprink, I want to buy a broom, what do you think of the specs on this new one? Which one should I get?" I passed her the spec sheets, and she pounced on the one with the Firebolt II.

"Oh, Merlin! Zero to two hundred miles an hour in five seconds? Turning circle of six feet? Improved braking, maneuvering, and acceleration / deceleration charms?" She smiled at me, and said, "Mattie, you don't have that much time on a broom. I'll take this one, and you can have my Cleansweep Five. Deal?" I raised my eyebrow, and she muttered, "Darn!"

"Can you afford it? How much is it?" Charlie asked.

"My mum and dad won't mind another loan to buy it. It's only 400 Galleons…" Sprink smiled sweetly, then added, "It will be the fastest broom at Hogwarts."

"Until someone makes a faster one," Arthur said sullenly.

I looked at the four patiently waiting owls, and asked, "Does one of you have an invoice?" One of them flapped over to me, and offered his leg.

Miss Mattie Wayne  
Hufflepuff House

Ms. Pomona Sprout,

Please find enclosed your order for the 1998 version of 'Twelve Thousand Magical Plants, Herbs and Fungi'. We have billed your Gringott's account #174750 the amount due of 217 Galleons 3 Sickles per your letter.

Sincerely,

William Carter  
Flourish and Blotts  
31 Diagon Alley, London

"This was misdelivered," I told the owl, who looked offended. "I'm sorry. I should have said 'misaddressed'. It should have gone to Professor Sprout. If you can wait a moment, I'll write her a note, and you can deliver it to her. If you don't mind, that is." I scribbled on the bottom of the receipt:

Professor Sprout  
Hufflepuff House

Professor,

It looks like Flourish and Blotts sent me your order, and billed my account by mistake. The owls have the books out here with our study group next to the lake. What did you want done with them? Should I send them back?

By any chance, did you get my Potions and Alchemy texts and book bag?

Mattie Wayne  
Slytherin House

"Do you mind finding Professor Sprout?" I asked the owl. "That way you won't have to fly all the way back with those heavy books. I am sorry I insulted you, the four of you certainly didn't make the mistake." He regarded me, then hooted and stuck out his leg.

------------------------

The owl flapped his way back, and offered me his leg.

Miss Wayne  
Slytherin House

Miss Wayne,

I'm in the middle of something I can't interrupt at the moment. I do indeed have your Potions books and bookbag (no Alchemy, though). Mr. Carter seems to have us confused, as he charged my account 132 galleons, 6 knuts.

If there are any Hufflepuffs in your study group, I would appreciate your dropping the books off in our common room, and I'll put your things there to trade. We can then sort out our respective accounts with Mr. Carter.

Pomona Sprout

I wrote just underneath:

Professor Sprout:

Charlie Adams and Arthur Morton are both in my study group. I'll go with them to drop off the books when we wrap up for the day.

Thanks,  
Mattie Wayne

"Charlie, Arthur. I wanted you to see this," and handed them the note. "These books are Professor Sprout's, and she wanted them delivered to your common room. You don't mind, do you?"

------------------------

Each of us struggled with five thick books down the corridor to the Hufflepuff common room. Charlie gasped, "_Gillyweed_", and the statue rotated open. People looked up, then rushed to help us with the books. After they were stacked up, someone asked, "Why didn't you use the featherweight charm on those?"

"We needed the exercise. What is that charm?" Arthur said.

"It's '_tollenosis_'. Is one of you Firsties Mattie Wayne from Slytherin?" I waved, and he said, "Professor Sprout left those for you. Just use the featherweight and levitation charms to get them back to the Snake's Den."

------------------------

Sprink and I dropped the books next to my bookcase, and I tossed the mail on my desk. She asked, "Got all your homework done? The professor's going to ask."

"Yeah," I said. I pulled out my computer and grabbed my converter, and asked, "Where do you want to see this?"

"Common room. I'm not the only one!"

------------------------

I tapped Terry on the shoulder, and asked him, "Can I steal this place? My converter has to be in contact with the castle's stone."

"It means I get a prime spot to see this," he said with a grin as he moved over.

I smiled, and set down the converter, unzipping my bag. I connected the power and network cables to the converter, and then whispered a silent prayer as I booted. I heard the familiar chimes, and the phrase, 'Welcome to Macintosh' appeared. I crossed my fingers, and double-clicked Netscape. Yahoo came up, and I said, "Welcome to the Internet. What do you want to look up?"

"How about the uses of dragon's blood?" Frank asked from behind me. I clicked on search, and typed 'uses for dragon's blood'. A second later, 32,000 results appeared. Scrolling down, I said, "Here's one that lists fifteen uses for it," and double-clicked it.

"There's only supposed to be twelve," Frank said. "Let me get my book." While he ran down to his dorm, I popped open my mail, and waited for it to download. While it did so, I opened a chat window, and pinged Aunt Barbara.

'Hey, Mattie!' she wrote. 'How's school?'  
'Not bad,' I replied. 'Can you VC?'  
'Sure. Open up.'

I connected my camera, then clicked open a video window, and saw Aunt Barbara. I waved at her, and she smiled, and asked, "Hey, Mattie! What's happening? Who's all your friends?"

"These are my housemates. They're Internet newbies, so be gentle, Babs," I said.

"Lil' sis, who's this, and how'd she get in your box?" Ian asked.

Barbara howled with laughter, and I said, "Babs, be nice!" Turning to Ian, I said, "This is my sister-in-law Barbara. She's back home in Gotham. This is a video-conferencing link." I pointed to a small window, and said, "This is what she's seeing and hearing."

"An' she's where?" Ian asked.

"About four thousand miles away," Babs said. "I've sent you web links relating to maginet and education you should find useful."

"It's like you're right here!" Ian marveled. "What's this maginet you mentioned?"

"Magical network, runs on the Internet backbone," Babs said casually. "Why isn't Hogwarts on it?"

"They didn't even know the Internet existed until I asked about it," I admitted. "Two of the professors went into Inverness to use their public library. I think this is the only computer in the building."

"Lil' sis keeps referring to us as being in the fourteenth century," Ian admitted. "I'm thinking she's right."

Barbara said, "Hang on a moment," and wheeled away. I flipped over to my mail, and saw Barbara's mail. Opening it, I double-clicked the link for the American department of magic, and repeated my search on dragon's blood. Ian whistled, and said, "Look at this! Potions using dragon's blood, differences in the types of blood, merchants selling it…"

"How many uses does it list?" Frank asked. I scrolled up, and said, "Fifteen. Hang on a minute, I'll print them out." I fished out my printer, connected it and loaded paper. As it printed, I flipped back to Bab's window. She was talking to someone else, and rolled her wheelchair around while she did so.

"Lil' sis, can I ask a personal question about y' sister?" Ian asked.

"You can ask me. I may not answer it, though." Barbara said.

Ian nodded, then said, "No offense, but why do ye roll abut in tha' chair, lassie? Why not walk?"

I sucked in a breath, and Ian looked at me. Barbara considered, then said, "I was shot. I'm paralyzed from the waist down. I can't walk."

"Shot? No offense, please, but wha' do ye mean?"

"A gun fired a lead bullet into my spine. It damaged my spinal cord, so I can't move my legs or feel anything below my waist." Barbara considered Ian, then said, "Guns have been in use since the mid sixteenth century. You don't know what they are?"

"I've _heard_ of them, but I've never seen one," Ian admitted. He thought for a minute, then asked, "I'm not a healer, but why not just transfigure the bullet thing into something harmless, and drink a nerve potion?"

"_YOU CAN FIX THIS? I COULD WALK AGAIN?_" Barbara demanded, leaning forward.

"I'm na' a healer, but it seems simple enough to me," Ian said. "You're kin to our lil' sister, which means ye' kin to us. We can ask for ye, if'n ye'd like."

"Holy Mother of God, PLEASE!" Barbara sobbed.

"Muggle trash. _Explosivus_!" My computer blew up, and I spun around to see Graham Pritchard's smirking face.

"You BASTARD! Why the HELL did you do that?" I yelled, leaping out of my chair, and running at him.

He waved his wand at me, and smirked, "Just keeping the common room neat and tidy."

I struggled to stand, and I heard a muttered, "_Finite Incantatum_" Professor Snape turned, and asked, "What is going on here?"

Frank caught me, and said, "Pritchard used an exploding hex on Mattie's machine, sir." I snarled and twisted, but I didn't want to harm Frank.

"Mr. Pritchard?"

"Getting rid of Muggle trash, sir."

"I see," the professor said. "Mr. Pritchard, whether it is Muggle or not, it is property belonging to a housemate. You will pay for the repair or replacement of Miss Wayne's equipment. You will also serve a month's detention with me, where you will scrub cauldrons, without using magic. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." He flipped me a coin, and said with a smirk, "A knut should cover it."

"Miss Wayne, what did your equipment cost to purchase?" the professor asked.

"About three thousand dollars, sir," I replied. "I think that's three or four hundred galleons, but I won't know until I can go into muggle London to check."

"I see," he said. "Miss Wayne, this is a matter of Slytherin honor. I will accompany you tomorrow afternoon to Diagon alley, and thence to muggle London. Bring what you will need, I will arrange it with the Headmaster." I nodded, and he asked, "Were you able to make productive use of your time?"

"Yes, sir. We discovered a whole network of magic users."

Frank said, "Someone's discovered three more uses for dragon's blood, sir!" He handed the printout to Professor Snape, who pursed his lips before saying, "I will show this to the Headmaster. If these are legitimate uses, he will find them most interesting."

He moved off to his office, and Frank told me, "Leave Pritchard be for now, lil' sis. He owes you a debt, and poundin' on him won't help."

"If he doesn't?" I snarled.

"Doesn't pay an honor debt to a housemate?" Frank considered, then added, "Give him some time, it's a good bit of money, and his family isn't wealthy. If he doesna pay, then ye can look into takin' it out a' his hide." I sighed, and nodded, and Frank released his hold on my arm.

------------------------

Sunday, September 13, 1998

Barbara Grayson  
Gotham Clock Tower  
Gotham City, USA  
c/o Ministry of Magic  
Mail Transfer Office  
London, UK

Babs -

I'm sorry for the sudden disconnection. One of my housemates thought it would be a good idea to use a blasting hex on my 'Muggle trash'. Professor Snape, my head of house, has informed him that he will be paying for the repair or replacement of my equipment. He will also be serving a month-long detention scrubbing potion cauldrons by hand. It's not a pleasant job, I can tell you. I'll tell you that story when I see you next!

I don't have class until ten p.m. Monday night (Astronomy), so I'll be going with Professor Snape into muggle London that afternoon to look for a replacement machine. At least my files are backed up to zip disk, but my other 'special' software isn't.

I talked to the medical people here (they're called 'mediwitches'), and they cautiously confirmed what Ian said. Doctors and healers being the same, they would prefer to examine you themselves before committing to a diagnosis. Is it possible for you and Uncle Dick to come to Scotland?

Love to all,  
Mattie

------------------------  
**_Monday, September 14, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall_**

------------------------

"Sprink, we're running late for Herbology!" I said.

"Right, right. I'm coming!" She gulped her pumpkin juice, and ran after me as I ran out the door toward the greenhouses. As we entered Greenhouse One, I lined up as the bell struck nine; Professor Sprout came out of her office, and smiled at us.

"Good morning, dears! I hope everyone had a good weekend. Please pass your homework up while I call the roll, and we'll get dirty! Charlie Adams? … "

" … and Mattie Wayne?"

"Here, ma'am." I waved, and the professor said, "I'd like to see you after class, Miss Wayne."

------------------------

" …Oh, look at the time! Homework, dears, the even questions at the ends of chapters three and four for next week. Wash up, and have a good afternoon!" Professor Sprout moved off, back to her office, and I followed, knocking on the doorframe.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. Thank you for helping out with that book order. Have a seat, would you, dear?" I did so, and she passed me copies of two letters. "This is what I'm sending to Flourish and Blotts. I would appreciate a copy of your own letter, dear."

Sunday, 13 September, 1998

Mr. William Carter  
Flourish and Blotts  
31 Diagon Alley, London

Mr. Carter;

I have received the order that Miss Mattie Wayne of Slytherin House sent to you, and that you erroneously billed to me, as Miss Wayne received my order and was also billed incorrectly. We have exchanged books, and I have asked Gringott's to transfer 85 galleons, 2 sickles, 23 knuts from my account to hers to rectify this error.

Please correct your records accordingly:

Professor Pomona Sprout  
Hufflepuff House  
Gringott's personal account #1**4**7750  
(Please note the second digit.)  
Copy to: Miss Mattie Wayne

I nodded, and looked at the other sheet:

Sunday, 13 September, 1998

Customer Service  
Gringott's Bank  
50 Diagon Alley, London

To Whom It May Concern:

In order to correct a merchant error, please transfer 85 galleons, 2 sickles, 23 knuts from my personal account #147750 to Miss Mattie Wayne of Hogwarts' Slytherin House, account #174750. Please owl receipts to both of us when complete.

Professor Pomona Sprout  
Hogwarts Hufflepuff House  
Gringott's account #147750

I smiled, and said, "Thank you. I'll be happy to do so, but Professor Snape said he'd take me to muggle London this afternoon, so I need to get going. My computer was inadvertently damaged yesterday, so I need to see about repairing it."

She looked excited, "Oh! Were you able to get it working, then? It sounds so exciting!"

"Yes, and we found three other uses for dragon's blood. Professor Snape took the printout to Professor Dumbledore." I grinned, and said, "Do you know what Professor Flitwick found in Inverness?"

"He was very excited over something, but I didn't get a chance to ask him." She smiled, and said, "We'll find out soon enough. Now off with you, dear. I just wanted to give you copies of those letters."

------------------------

"Are you ready, Miss Wayne?" Professor Snape asked.

I said, "Yes, sir. I appreciate your taking the time to do this. I'll need to stop by Gringotts to withdraw some muggle Sterling to pay for it."

"I believe Mr. Pritchard will be paying for it, Miss Wayne."

"Yes, sir, but from what I understand, he may not be able to … afford it immediately. I was going to be nice and offer him terms to reimburse me when we know how much it will cost. There will probably be a bench fee."

"Bench fee, Miss Wayne?"

"A diagnostic charge." I lifted the iMac, and asked, "Can you get the printer, sir?"

"Stop thinking like a muggle," he said. He transfigured a chair into a wooden box, placed the printer and computer in it, then shrank it and put it in his pocket. "Come. We need to walk to Hogsmeade to get past the apparition wards." He glanced at me, and asked, "Have you apparated before?"

I lifted my bookbag with my 'Bat' equipment, and said, "I've used a portkey, sir. I don't know what apparition is."

He held the door for me, and said, "It allows you to move between two points, similar to a portkey, but your magic powers it, not the portkey creator's. Instead of a hook behind your navel, it feels like a mattress pushing you from behind."

------------------------

We just … appeared in the street in front of Zabini Apothecary. Blaise looked through the window, ran out and hugged me, saying "Mattie! Hello, how are you?"

I coughed a bit, and she let me go, nodding politely to Professor Snape. "We are unfortunately pressed for time, Miss Zabini," he said. "Miss Wayne's computer was damaged with a blasting hex, we are on the way to muggle London to inquire on repairs."

"Who did it? What can I do to help? Mattie, I owe you…" Blaise said.

"Mr. Pritchard is the responsible party, he will be reimbursing Miss Wayne." Blaise nodded, and the professor continued, "Are you familiar with muggle London, Miss Zabini?"

She shook her head, "Not in that area, professor. I would suggest Hermione, though."

"I would prefer to keep it in Slytherin. However, if she can be spared for the afternoon?"

"I have no objection. Why don't you come in for a minute?"

------------------------

We walked into Gringott's, and saw the goblin sitting by himself, bored, at the 'Muggle Currency Exchange' window. I walked up, and said, "Excuse me. I need to get some Sterling, please."

"Key, please," he said in a bored voice. I handed him my little cloth Gringott's moneybag, and he sat up like he had been shocked. He locked his cage, and said, "One moment, please, milady! Please, please, come this way. How can we make you comfortable?" He opened a door to a small conference room, and held a chair for me, virtually ignoring Hermione and Professor Snape. He bustled out, then hurried back in with another, older goblin. A third came in bearing a tea tray. Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Miss Wayne. I am Herblung, prime client relations' manager. How may Gringott's assist you today?" the older goblin asked.

"I need to buy some muggle computer equipment, so I need to convert some galleons into sterling," I smiled. "Since I'm not familiar with muggle London, I was wondering if you had a telephone directory or map of some sort to find the shop I need."

"Certainly, milady!" Herblung said something to the tea-goblin, which vanished, only to re-appear seconds later with a telephone directory and a London map. He looked up, and asked, "Professor Snape, isn't it? Can you apparate both these ladies, or would you prefer we do it for you? The closest shop is about two miles, much too far to walk."

"May I see the directory, please?" I asked, then found the closest Apple dealer on Regent Street. "This one's in Whitechapel. Is that far?"

"Several miles. Please allow us to apparate you and your colleagues, Miss Wayne. It is all part of the Gringott's service," Herblung smiled, and added, "As far as your withdrawals, we have modified the charm on your moneybag. Simply think of how much you need, in whichever currency, and it will be there for you."

------------------------

With a soft 'pop', we appeared with our three goblins in an alleyway. They would wait for us there, while we walked around the corner to the shop. Hermione held the door as I carried in the (resized) box with my poor computer and printer. I put it down next to the 'Service' window. A fellow ambled up with a 'G'day, mate! Sick'un, eh?" He whistled, and said, "Someone shoot it?"

"Not quite," the professor said. "We require a written repair estimate, and we do not have a great amount of time."

"Too bad, mate. Got a dozen in front o' ye."

"You insolent little…" the professor started to build, but I said, "Excuse me, professor. May I?" He sneered and moved off.

"He gets impatient," I said as I reached into my pocket. "Short fuse, and all. Now I understand that there's a line, but how many techs do you have working today?"

"A Yank, eh? Four, with me, why?"

I slipped him a folded 50-pound note, and said, "I really need that estimate as quickly as possible. If you send your mates over, will this help to … jump the line?"

"As an … expedited bench fee, it will indeed." He smiled, and said, "I'll send them over, but at a glance, I'd think about replacing it, mate."

"Sounds like a plan," I said. I looked about, and said, "Who's the blonde over there?"

"Kelly." He caught her eye, and motioned her over. The other three techs came by, sorrowed over the condition of my equipment, and shook my hand in sympathy. I was promised an hour for the estimate.

"Hello, I'm Kelly Bundy," she said.

I looked at her, and asked, "Do you by chance have a sister named Karen?"

"Why, yes, a younger sister. She goes to school up … in … Scotland," she said, as she recognized the school crest on my sweater and my school tie. "As a matter of fact, she has a uniform that's very similar to yours…" She looked around, and whispered, "Hogwarts?"

I nodded, and quietly said, "That's Professor Snape over there, head of Slytherin House."

"Merlin, I'm _jealous_!" she whispered. Raising her voice, she asked, "So, looking for a replacement desktop?"

"Actually, I'm thinking of a PowerBook, for homework and stuff. What's the top of the line?"

"Oh, we've got one that just came out September first. It's a new G3/266 with a four gig drive and 64 meg of RAM. It's this one right over here… "

I played with it, then asked, "Kelly, who was the tech that called you over?"

"Dave. Would you like to speak to him?" I nodded, and she bustled off. I played with the black PowerBook, and Kelly returned.

"Yes'm, miss. What can I do for you?"

"Quick and dirty, what's the status of my printer and computer?"

"Printer took a surge. It tests okay, but …" he rocked his hand. "The computer now, I'd write it off 'twere me."

"I need a repair quote that will be more than the cost of a new machine," I smiled. "Kelly, I need to watch Dave take the hard drive out of that old machine, and a quote on a fully-loaded PowerBook and printer that will come in under that repair estimate. All by," I checked my watch, "two o'clock. I need to be out of here by three."

They glanced at each other, then smiled. Dave said, "Come along, then."

------------------------

Old hard drive in my pocket (I'd be giving it to Barbara), repair estimate of almost 3000 pounds in my pocket, I paid 2200 pounds cash for the fully loaded PowerBook, case, and printer. Professor Snape walked up, and said, "Well?"

"Professor, I'd like to introduce Kelly Bundy, Karen's older sister."

He raised his eyebrow, and nodded politely. I took a couple of business cards from Kelly, and said, "We'll be in touch. I'll tell Karen 'hi' for you."

She leaned closer, and said, "Think I could … visit sometime?"

"I think that could be arranged," he admitted.

------------------------

We popped back into Gringott's, and Herblung bustled up, "Miss Wayne, back safe and sound! Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"One little thing, Mr. Herblung. It's such a trifling thing I hesitate to ask…" I said.

"Why, what can it be, Miss Wayne?"

"I have two documents, a repair estimate and a sales receipt. Would it be asking too much to have an official Gringott's letter with the conversion from sterling to galleons?"

"Not at all! I'll sign it myself. One moment, please."

------------------------

With the Gringott's letter converting the estimate to 608 galleons, and the sales receipt to 446 galleons, we split up, I headed to Quality Quidditch at #23, the Professor and Hermione to Blaise' apothecary.

The bell over the door rang, and a fellow asked, "Can I help you, miss?"

"I'm Mattie Wayne. I'm looking for Charlie Wickham, is he here?"

"I'm Charlie. Glad to meet you, Miss Wayne."

------------------------

With my new Firebolt II in its carrying case, and other equipment in my bag, I walked down to the Wheeze. The bell tinkled, and a redheaded bloke looked up. I smiled, and said, "I'm Mattie Wayne. Is Fred or George here?"

"I'm Ron Weasley. I'll tell them you're here. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"No, thanks." I grinned, and he said, "Be right back."

I was looking at the barrel of fake wands, when I heard a voice, "Miss Wayne! Long time…"

"… No see! What…"

"… can we do…"

"… for you?"

"Gentlemen," I smiled. "Can we talk privately?"

------------------------

"Look, guys, I can't license my stuff to you," I said. "It's not my decision. I'll ask the proper people the next time I see them, but that may not be until the Christmas break. Now, is there anything else?"

One of them asked, "We usually subcontract the more intricate works on our pranks to Jessie, across the street at her clock shop. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Is she discreet and reliable?" They nodded, and I said, "Not if I can meet her."

------------------------

The bell over the shop door tinkled, and a young woman looked up from her workbench, a jeweler's loupe screwed into her eye. "Wi' ye in a minute," she said, just as something went flying. "Ah, Bloody Hell!" and a rubber chicken over the fireplace started to dance. I laughed at it, and she said, "Like m' chicken, eh? It gets its exercise when it hears a swear word. These two gave it to me, first day on th' job."

"Any language?"

"So far. Go ahead an' try."

"Okay. ' !'" The chicken started dancing, and the twins cracked up. I smiled sweetly, and said, "It works!"

She smiled, and stuck out an oily hand. "I'm Jessie. What language, and what di' you say?"

"Russian, and I … invited it to have relations with a goat." I smiled sweetly again, and shook her hand. "Want it in German? That's a _great_ language to be rude in."

"Nae, 'tis all right. What can I do for you?"

"These two scoundrels are doing some equipment conversion for me, and they mentioned they used you as a subcontractor. Since it's a bit … sensitive, I wanted to meet you first." She nodded, and I said, "For example, I have this item. I attach one of these miniaturized devices to a moving person or vehicle I want to find, and they come up on this screen."

"Clever. What's the range?"

"Variable from ten meters to one hundred kilometers." She blinked, and I translated, "Thirty feet to about forty miles." I changed the resolution, and moved away from the twins. "See, the detector's picking them up over there, and Jessie, you're over there."

"When did you do that?" they all asked.

I grinned, and said, "When we shook hands. Check the insides of your right wrists." They groaned, and the bell tinkled over the door.

"Miss Tickes. Miss Wayne. Messers. Weasley." Professor Snape intoned. "Are you ready, Miss Wayne?"

"One moment, please, sir." I handed one of the twins a bag with my gear, adding the small scope to it, and then said, "Oh, my broom!"

"I have it, Miss Wayne. The seals are unbroken."

"Thank you, sir." I looked around, and added, "I need to come back. I need a good alarm clock."

"Tickes clocks have had an excellent reputation since before the war with your Colonies, Miss Wayne. You could not do with a finer timepiece," the professor said.

------------------------

"Mattie, get up. It's nine o'clock…"

"S'what, Sprink?"

"You said you wanted to shower before class. It's a long run up to the Astronomy tower."

"Aright, all right." I poked my head out of the bed hangings, and said, "Be there in a minute."

------------------------

"Good evening, students. Please pass up your star charts, and did anyone have any questions?"

I raised my hand, and asked, "Professor Sinistra, I used the New York charts, I didn't have ones for Gotham."

"Miss Wayne, right? You were in detention with Professor Snape last week." I nodded, and she added, "This will do for now, but please have the correct chart completed by next week's class, Miss Wayne. Now then, to the roof, everyone!"

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, September 15, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall_**

------------------------

"History again," I complained. "At least I can get Herbology done. Ready, Sprink?"

She gulped her pumpkin juice (I wondered how she could stand it!) and said, "Right behind you, mate."

Professor Binns floated through the blackboard, and said in a monotone, "Hello again, and welcome back to History. We will be continuing with recent Goblin events. In late May, 1503, Queen Alferta the Flatulent, after only two weeks on the throne…" Several heads went 'thunk' and snores were heard.

I scribbled a note to Sprink, '_How's your Herbology?_'  
'_It's OK. What about Astronomy?_'  
'_It's about the only thing we can't copy. I can do my father's star chart, but my mother's an orphan. What about you?_'  
She shrugged, and replied, '_My family tree goes back a long way. That's not my problem, people like my Aunt Bella are._'

Binns droned on, "…taxation on silver mines in the Argentum district caused…"

------------------------

As the ghostly Professor floated through the chalkboard, we awoke our sleeping classmates, and I said, "I've been having this mad urge to ask Professor Binns if he knows what happened on July 20, 1969."

"Or June 6, 1944," Charlie agreed. "So have I. The problem is that we're getting a lot of our homework done, and I don't think the other years would appreciate our bollixing up the system everyone's profiting by."

As we walked, Sprink asked, "Um, guys? What did happen on those dates?"

"Events of earthshaking significance," I said. "See why I've been saying 'fourteenth century'? I'll make a bet with you, Sprink. I'll bet you…"

"… a knut?"

I grinned, "Against two of my galleons that you can't get an answer to either date without asking either a professor, a muggleborn, or someone in another house. That means you can ask anyone in Slytherin. Deal?"

"I'm gonna regret this, but in for a knut, in for a galleon. Deal." We shook, and Professor Vector came down some stairs.

"Professor Vector! Can we have a moment?" Sprink called.

She paused, and said, "Yes, Miss Tonks?"

She motioned the Professor over to join us, and Sprink handed her a knut, saying "We have a bet, Professor. Mattie is saying that I can't find out what happened on two historic dates without asking a professor, a muggleborn, or someone in another house. I can ask any student in Slytherin."

She raised an eyebrow, "What dates?"

"June 6, 1944 and July 20, 1969," I said as I handed her two galleons.

Sprink gasped, and then said, "We shouldn't have asked you! You'll go to Dumbledore and everyone will lose their study time!"

"You're right, I should. You should learn what happened then. Then again, I think every person that's gone to Hogwarts in the last two hundred years has done exactly what you're doing." She smiled, reminiscing, then added, "I know I either studied or slept through his class. For what it's worth, we've been trying to get him to update his syllabus for at least that long, so I wouldn't worry about losing the study time." Professor Vector motioned me aside, and asked in a whisper, "What happened then?"

I used a book to support the sheet of paper, and wrote:

June 6, 1944 - Allied invasion of Europe in Normandy, France. Over one million troops in the invasion fleet - largest in history.

July 20, 1969 - US lands two men on the moon. Neil Armstrong is first, his quote: "That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind."

I folded it in quarters, and handed it to her. She glanced at it, closed her eyes, and said, "I got an 'Acceptable' on my History OWL, too. He never mentioned either one."

------------------------

At lunch, I looked over my Potion notes while Sprink worked her way down the table, whispering. Someone called, "Post's here!" and I looked up, to see an owl with a manila envelope circling above me. He landed, and offered the envelope to me.

"Thank you," I told it, offering it a drink. It hooted, and flew off, another taking its place. It wore a Gringotts medallion, and had a scroll tied to its leg. I thanked it, and unrolled a receipt and an envelope with 'Monthly Statement' on it. It flew off, and I looked at the larger envelope.

Sunday, September 13, 1998

Miss Mattie Wayne  
Slytherin House  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry  
c/o Department of Magic  
Mail Transfer Office  
Washington, DC, USA

Mattie:

I'm glad that you're ok. I've passed a copy of your letter to your Mom & Dad, and all four of us will come to see you. I don't know how long it will take for the healers to examine or treat me, so I have to free up a couple weeks, and that will take some time. Figure on mid-November for our visit.

Scrubbing cauldrons? grin I want the story!

I'm glad you're able to get some replacement equipment. Assuming you've already gotten it, I've copied the software you need to the enclosed CD. Just click on 'Install' in your Finder, and everything will be set for you. I assume that the old hard drive is either in your possession or destroyed.

So, you're going to try out for your house Quidditch team? I'd like to see it, the information I've gotten from maginet sounds interesting. Good luck to you, and let us know what happens!

Love,  
Barbara and Dick

I heard a whoop, and turned to look. Arthur was standing at the Hufflepuff table, saying, "I'm an Uncle! Carson Tecumseh Morton, 9 lbs. 2 oz, 19 1/2 inches!" He pumped his fist in the air again, and people were slapping his back in congratulations.

"Congratulations, Mr. Morton!" Professor Dumbledore said, leaving the high table to shake his hand. I joined the line to congratulate him, then returned to my mail.

"When do kids show their first sign of magic?" I asked, back at the Slytherin table.

Surprisingly, Graham Pritchard answered, "Usually by the time they're two or three. It can be nervous until it happens - you don't know if the child's a squib or not." He frowned, and added, "Squibs happen in the best families - my little sister's one."

"So is my big sister," Karen admitted. "She said until my magic manifested at two, my parents were biting their nails." She smiled reminiscently, and said, "I was chasing a ball, ran headlong into a rosebush, and set it on fire."

------------------------

"Settle down, settle down," Professor Snape said as the door closed. "Pass up your homework while I call the roll, and Mr. Morton?"

Arthur swallowed nervously, and said, "Yes, Professor?"

"Congratulations."

------------------------

"So where do they hold the DA meetings?" I asked.

"Seventh floor, in the Room of Requirement. It's opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy," Terry Higgs said. "He's the one what tried to train trolls for the ballet. You walk past it three times, concentrating on what you need."

We walked in behind some Gryffs, and found most of the school there. Professor Harry stood up on a small stage, and said, "Welcome, everyone to the DA. If this is your first time here, there's a simple rule to remember. In here, there are no houses, no professors, and no students, just Hogwarts." He grinned, and added, "This is the only time you can hex a professor - **_IF_** you can get away with it!" People chuckled, and he asked, "Any questions?"

Someone from Ravenclaw asked, "What about a Patronus?"

"I can show you how to cast the charm, but it's no good without a Dementor or Lethifold to use against it," Harry said. "I was planning to use boggarts to simulate them later on toward Christmas, when they're in season and easier to catch." He smiled, and added, "Since we're still so early in the school year, I thought we'd dust off our vacation laziness, and touch on some of the basics. Let's form two lines, and practice '_Expelliarmus_', shall we?"

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, September 16, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Charms classroom_**

------------------------

"Oh, Miss Wayne! Thank you for telling me about that Internet thing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked. "We only had half of an hour, but I was able to look up the most interesting things! We simply MUST get this for the school! I was most vocal about it in the staff meeting this morning!" He beamed at me, and asked, "Professor Snape said you had gotten new equipment. Do you think you might bring it by to show people?"

I blinked. "Certainly, sir. Um, where? The library?"

"That would be wonderful! Would Saturday be agreeable?"

"We have Quidditch tryouts on Saturday, sir. Maybe … tonight after dinner? I need to finish some homework…"

"Most acceptable, Miss Wayne. Now, speaking of homework, everyone please pass it forward…"

------------------------

"I am SO dead," I moaned at lunch.

"Why, what's wrong?" Sprink asked, as she nibbled on a carrot.

I looked at her through my fingers, and said, "People are gonna want to see the Internet, and I haven't had time to even take my new machine out of the box. They're not going to want to hang around while it sets up."

"I don't know. If I got one, I'd have to do it, right? How long does it take, and how much does one of them cost?"

I took a gulp of milk. "You just do it once, and the last time, it took about 15 minutes for me." I sighed, and said, "My machine cost about 450 galleons, but it's a top-notch machine. There are others that are less expensive."

Sprink whistled, then said, "There are potions that you have to watch closely for hours and hours. I can wait 15 minutes, especially if it's only one time. Just tell people that it's the first time you've started this machine, they'll understand." The bell rang, and she added, "We gotta get to Transfiguration!"

------------------------

"Good afternoon, everyone. Please pass up your homework," Professor McGonagall said. She spied me, and said, "Miss Wayne, Professor Flitwick could barely contain himself at the staff meeting this morning. As you have the only one of these … devices in the school, when will the rest of us see it?"

"Professor Flitwick asked this morning, ma'am. I got a new one Monday when Professor Snape and I went into London, however, I haven't had the chance to set it up yet." I shrugged, and added, "The last time I did it, it took about 15 minutes. I got talked into bringing it into the library after dinner."

"I see. What did it cost? I'm wondering how many Hogwarts could afford…"

"Mine's a top-of-the-line portable, ma'am, and cost about 450 galleons." Several whistles and Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. I added, "A desktop unit, like you might use in your office, would probably be half of that." She relaxed a bit, and I asked, "Ma'am? My sister-in-law is a top-notch computer scientist, and she'll be coming to visit sometime in November. She could better answer your questions about it than I can."

"She's coming for the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch game?"

"If I make the team, ma'am."

"Well, best of luck in your tryouts on Saturday." I nodded, and she addressed the class, "As fascinating as all of this is, we need to continue with our transfiguration of inanimate objects. Now, last week, many of you had difficulties in changing a doorknob to a doorstop. What we'll do is to walk through the process…"

------------------------

Sprink and I rushed through dinner, and hurried down to our dorm. I was tempted to hide in bed, but Sprink wouldn't let me. She grabbed the printer and a stack of paper, and I took my transformer and PowerBook, and headed up the stairs for the library.

I looked around, and found a vacant table butted against a wall. I started to unpack the PowerBook, and someone cleared their throat. "Need a hand, there?" I turned to see Professor Harry.

I checked the indicator lights on the AC adapter, and said, "No, thanks. Just cross your fingers it boots ... " Happy Mac appeared with the extensions, and I heard, 'Welcome to Macintosh'. I started Netscape, and switched to the maginet, making it my home page. "What would you like to look up, Professor?"

"What about the Dark Arts?"

I typed it into the search page, and came up with 320,000 hits. Sprink whistled, and Professor Harry leaned over me, studying the listing. "There. 'Primer to the Dark Arts', please."

"Oh, my!" Professor McGonagall said from behind us. "I think we shall all need to update our syllabi."

------------------------  
**_Thursday, September 17, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office_**

------------------------

"Good morning, Miss Wayne!" the Headmaster called. "Please, come in, come in! I understand you connected your new compulator yesterday?"

"Computer, sir. Yes, I did." I yawned, and said, "Excuse me. We were in the library with it until ten last night. We'd still be there if Madame Pince hadn't thrown us out." I took a seat next to the fire, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm a bit tired."

He chuckled, and said, "That actually brings up a good point. You've made good progress, and now I'd like you to try protecting your mind while fatigued." I nodded, and he continued, "Ready? _Legilmens_!"

------------------------

The clock chimed the half, and Professor Dumbledore said, "Well, now. We've been making excellent progress. One other thing, Miss Wayne, I understand your sister-in-law will be visiting us for medical reasons?" I nodded, and he asked, "She is an expert in connecting these machines?"

"Yes, sir. We're looking at mid-November for her visit." There was a knock, and he looked at the door, calling, "Come in, come in, Minerva."

He nodded, returning his attention to me as Professor McGonagall entered. "Ah, very good. Would you be so kind as to ask her what information she would require from us in order to set up a group of these machines? We will, of course, be more than happy to pay her usual fees." He smiled, and said, "We do like to purchase from our Hogwarts family when we can."

I smiled, "Sir, I bought my machine from my housemate Karen Bundy's sister Kelly in Whitechapel. I'll pass her information on to my sister-in-law, since Kelly already knows about Hogwarts."

The two professors looked at each other, and Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Excellent!" He scribbled on a bit of paper, and added, "In that case, please have them contact Miss Fawcett at the education ministry regarding shipping and so forth." I cocked my eyebrow, and the Headmaster chuckled. "She's a recent graduate, and a good Ravenclaw," he smiled. "I look forward to hearing from them. Oh, and Miss Wayne, please keep this quiet for now."

------------------------

On my way through the Common Room, I saw Karen, and asked, "Is your sister Kelly discreet?"

"Usually. Why?" she asked.

I motioned her aside, and said, "This is still secret. Professor Dumbledore wants me to contact my sister-in-law and Kelly regarding getting a computer network installed at Hogwarts. I was going to send them an email now. If this goes through, it could mean a LOT of money for Kelly in sales."

"You mean … we could ALL have access to a machine like yours?" I nodded, and with an excited grin, she added, "I think you can rely on her, and on me!"

------------------------

_To: kbundy, bgordon  
From: mwayne  
Subj: Computer network at my school  
Flags: Private _

I've been asked by Headmaster Dumbledore to contact you both regarding the possible installation of a network here. There is a possible site visit in mid-November.

Barbara, we will need to know what kind of information you would require from faculty and staff regarding needs. Kelly, we would prefer to buy from 'family', however, I'm sure that individuals would be interested in purchasing equipment privately.

Please contact Shannon Fawcett (she is a school alum) at the Ministry of Education in London. Her address is: sfawcett, regarding shipping, financing, etc.

Please contact me if you need to forward messages to Headmaster Dumbledore.

Ms. Mattie Wayne

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 18, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom_**

------------------------

"Good morning, everyone!" Professor Harry said. He smiled, and said, "Please pass up your homework while I call the roll. Mr. Adams?"

"… and Miss Wayne. Now then, did anyone have any questions before we start discussing the spells you found? Miss Leeds?"

"Sir, my parents wanted me to ask, it wasn't in the _Prophet_ … What spell did you use on … on … You-know-who?"

Professor Harry took off his robe, sighed and sat down. "Miss Leeds, first of all, I won't answer your question until you can say his name. Secondly, and this is a lesson for all of you, don't take everything you read in blind faith. Make your own decisions, think for yourself. Lastly, Miss Leeds, have you ever killed?"

She blinked, and flushed, "Um, no sir."

He smiled wryly, "Good. I pray you never have to." He looked around, and said, "Until you come to that point where you'll wonder - could I kill? Last week I showed you the Unforgivables. Last week I killed six rats. They hadn't done anything to me. They happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and were trapped. Their lives were sacrificed for your education." He stood up and walked about, before continuing, "You may say, 'Well, they're only rats.' This is true, but they had a life, and I snuffed them out like you would a candle. A Death Eater would say, 'They're only muggles. They're only mudbloods.' Tell me, Miss Leeds, you're a pureblood, and a Gryffindor. Could you kill Miss Wayne, there?"

She sputtered, "Why … of course not!"

"Why not? She's a muggle; she's a Slytherin. She has to be evil personified. Off with her head!"

"But … But she hasn't done anything."

"**_EXACTLY_**!" he roared. He glared, then said, "I'm a Gryffindor, why shouldn't I dock every other house here ten thousand points? I can, I'm a professor. What's to stop me?"

"It wouldn't be right!"

"Whose right? The only 'right' I care about is making sure Gryffindor wins the House Cup!"

"There's no reason for it!"

"Sure there is. I want Gryffindor to win the House Cup. That's my reason." He paced, then asked, "Miss Leeds, stand up, please." She did, and he asked, "What was his name?"

She blinked, then said, "V… Voldemort."

"Good. You may be seated. I want every pureblood except Miss Leeds in this room to stand up." I glanced at Sprink, and watched, fascinated, as she stood up with about a dozen people. Professor Harry took his attendance roll, and started marking names off, mumbling to himself. He looked up, and said casually, "By the way, everyone standing has flunked the course."

There were shouts of outrage, and Arthur grabbed his bag and turned to leave. Professor Harry said, very quietly, "Sit down, Mr. Morton, before you flunk also."

Arthur hissed, white with rage, "Do you think I care? If you're going to flunk people for being pureblood, you're a worse instructor than Binns!"

Professor Harry's eyes glowed, and he said softly, "You have five seconds to comply, Mr. Morton, or I will recommend your expulsion. For the rest of the purebloods," he continued as Arthur reluctantly took his seat, "I don't care how much money or influence your family has. If you're standing, you've flunked." People started to sit, or grab their things, and he roared, "**_DID I SAY YOU COULD MOVE?_**" They froze, and he calmly said, "Now then. I hope you want to be re-admitted to my class. There's only one way for you purebloods to do so. Say his name. Miss Tonks?"

"I … I … " she stammered.

"Are you a Death Eater, Miss Tonks? You should be able to. Show me your left arm. As a matter of fact, I want to see every pureblood's left forearm." People blinked, and he undid his sleeve, baring his forearm. "See? No Dark Mark. Miss Tonks?"

Sprink pulled off her robe, and pushed up her sleeve. She didn't have a Dark Mark, and she managed to stammer, "Voldemort!"

"Very good, Miss Tonks. You're re-admitted, please be seated. Mr. McLeod, you're next. Your arm, please?"

------------------------

"Now then. I'm glad to see that every pureblood here could prove they aren't a Death Eater. Question, Mr. Adams?"

"Sir, why only the purebloods? Why not us muggleborn?"

"Voldemort only recruited from pureblooded families." He chuckled a bit, then said, "It's a bit ironic, he himself was a half-blood. His mother was muggle." He paced a bit, then sat on a table and said, "Now then, what have we learned today? First of all, everyone has something that sets him or her apart. For instance, we have four Yanks in the class." He motioned, and we stood, except for Arthur, then sat again at his nod, "We have six blacks," he motioned again, "and how many people with green eyes?" I raised my hand, as he did. "We have twenty-one males," he stood, "and twenty-two females." I sat back down.

"The point to all of this today is to get you to think for yourself, to make your own decisions. You can take other people's opinions into account, but remember, they are OPINIONS, not cold, hard fact. Mr. Adams, will Hufflepuff win the Quidditch cup this year?"

"I hope so, sir."

"Not if Wayne can use that new broom of hers," Arthur mumbled.

Professor Harry ignored this, and said, "An opinion, a fact would be … Miss Tonks?"

She mumbled, "You're cute?" and he grinned, and said, "Thank you for your opinion. However, I asked for a fact."

"Um… Hufflepuff just got new brooms?"

"And therefore they will win the cup. Shaky logic. Who else has a new broom?"

I raised my hand, and at his nod, said, "Firebolt II, sir."

There were several whistles, and Professor Harry said with a grin, "I hope you're bringing it to flying class. Homework, everyone! From the purebloods, I want two feet on why people are afraid to use Voldemort's name. From the rest of you, I want two feet on a campaign of fear in recent history. Feel free to cross-reference each other. Next week, we go over the defensive spells you've found. Mr. Morton, a minute of your time, please."

"Is that a request, or an order, **_sir_**?"

"It is not a request, Mr. Morton."

------------------------

"Why are we walking to class?" Sprink asked. "It's a _flying_ class, and we're carrying brooms. Why are we walking?"

"Um. Exercise?" I asked. "UP!"

"UP!"

"YeeHa!"

------------------------

I waited with the others while Arthur talked to Professor Harry after class. With a clap on the shoulder, he turned and walked toward us. Charlie met him, and asked, "What's up, mate?"

Arthur shrugged, and said, "I have the somewhat dubious honor of his first detention for DADA, and he wanted to know why I wasn't at the DA meeting on Tuesday."

"That's right, you weren't," Sprink said.

He shook his head, "I'm not really … comfortable in large groups, and after his performance today, you couldn't PAY me to attend."

"Professor Harry was just trying to make a point," Sprink said.  
  
"Well, it's a lousy way to do it. I was this close," Arthur held thumb and forefinger a quarter inch apart, "to telling him to shove it and expel me." He snorted, and added, "Mattie, I'm surprised you didn't beat me to it just to stick up for Sprink and Slytherin House."  
  
"I could tell he wasn't serious about flunking anyone, but he was ticked off at you," I said. "Didn't you see his eyes glow?"  
  
"No, he was serious. If anyone had refused to say 'Voldemort', he'd have flunked them and you all know it. A bully is a bully whether he's a teacher or not. After what he said, he couldn't back down."  
  
Sprink said, "He's a pureblood too. Didn't you notice he unrolled his sleeve? Just because he acts like a muggle doesn't mean he isn't. Besides, he's right, wizard folk, and especially the purebloods, have been scared to say his name. It's almost like a curse, if you say 'Voldemort', he'll appear!" She turned to look Arthur in the eye, and said, "I think you're way over-reacting!"  
  
Arthur shook his head, "No. If a man threatens to do something mean, cruel, wicked and nasty, odds are he's really mean, cruel, wicked and nasty. I'm not up on this whole 'The Boy Who Lived' thing, but if today is any sample of Professor Harry Potter, I'd rather spend my free time by myself."

"He was right, though," I said. "Opinions and facts. What's your opinion, and what's your fact? The fact is, right or wrong, you were disrupting the class. If you had a problem with Professor Harry, you could have gone along, and told him so after class. If that didn't work, you're supposed to go to your Head of House." I stopped walking, and looked at Arthur. "I'm having a really difficult time in Transfig, but I'm not going to throw a fit in class. I'm working with some of the people in my house, and I've talked to Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall about it. If I were you, I'd talk to Professor Sprout, and get her opinion. If she agrees with you, she'll go to bat for you."

"Talk to some of the other people in the house as well, mate," Charlie said. "Yes, it's an whole lorry full of '_opinions_', but they knew Professor Harry when he was just a regular bloke, like us. If he was an arsewipe then, he'll be one now. My take on him is that he's a regular bloke. He's a teacher, now, OUR teacher, so we need to give him a bit of respect."

One of the Cortez twins (Shaundra?) said, "Also, last week he showed us the Unforgivables, and he even told us the curses! That could have blown up horribly in his face! He trusts us enough with the correct information that we won't abuse it!"

Roshawn (I think) added, "Didn't you see how it hurt him to cast the Cruciatus on those rats? If he was faking that, he deserves an Oscar!"

"When you called him a worse teacher than Binns, **_I_** winced at that!" Sprink said. "That was a low blow, but did he challenge you for a personal insult? He knows you would have no chance against him in a duel! Merlin, the only one here that _might_ be able to beat him would be Dumbledore! No, he ignored that, and a lot of wizards wouldn't! So tell us, what _exactly_ did he give you detention for?" She waited, then said, "Well?"

"Disrupting class, all right?"

"You're pissing off one of the most powerful wizards in the world, one who could turn you into a toadstool with a twitch of his eyebrow?" Shaundra asked. "You know that's a _fact_! Boy, you're either insanely stupid, or insanely brave. That's like going into the Bowery with a Cub Scout knife and hundred-dollar bills stickin' out of your pocket."

"The operative word there is _insane_," Roshawn said. "In either case, what are you doing in Hufflepuff? You should have been with the rest of the fools in Gryffindor!"

Arthur was getting steamed, and I added, "One last thing, and I'm changing the subject. When you announced the birth of your nephew, I asked at the Slytherin table when a kid's magic would show, and people said it was usually about two or three. They also said that people don't have their full magic until their late thirties or forties." I looked at Arthur, and mentioned, "Professor Harry isn't even at his full strength yet. He's got another twenty years, and you're pissing him off?" I stepped close, and tapped him in the chest, "What kind of idiot are you?"

"One that wants to be alone!"

"Ah, a loner. Know what you mean," I commiserated. "Too bad, you've got us. Do you have a large family?"

"Four sisters, two brothers, and I'm the first wizard in the family in three generations," he admitted. "It's also a little scary, being four thousand miles from home by myself."

"Before I came here, I went to a private boarding school. I know what you mean," I said.

"So why didn't you three go to Salem?" Arthur asked.

"Place just creeped me out," I admitted, and the Cortez sisters nodded their heads.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, September 19, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin Quidditch Tryouts (Quidditch Pitch)_**

------------------------

Karen blew her whistle, and said, "'_Sonorus'_. All right, you lot! Everyone who's trying out for open slots on the team, on the field! Everyone else, keep your eyes peeled for nosy Parkers from the other houses! Chasers to me, Keepers to Frank, Seekers to Ian! Good luck, everyone! '_Quietus_'." I walked out on the pitch, and Sprink headed toward Karen.

"Right-o! Everyone for Seeker, then," Ian said. He released the snitch, and said, "Go find it." I kicked off with the other two.

------------------------

"There you are, you little…" I whispered to myself, spotting the snitch orbiting a goalpost. I tipped over and dove at it, only to see it zip away. I grinned, and followed.

I stretched … and grabbed it! Holding it up in my left hand, I heard Ian call, "Seekers to me!" I turned, and flew toward where he stood, talking to Karen and Frank. I landed, and looked at the snitch, wings still beating fruitlessly. I handed it to him as the other two landed, and he said, "Best two of three. Go find it."

------------------------

"Come out, little snitch. Come out, come out wherever you are…" I crooned as I dodged and wove my way through the madness over the pitch. The dozen or so Chaser candidates were trying to score against the four Keepers, two on each end. Professors Snape and Vector were Beating, knocking the Bludgers around, while Professor Sinistra, holding a mug of something, had joined Karen, Ian and Frank. I saw a flicker of gold near them, and dove. The snitch was hovering a foot or so over Professor Sinestra's head. Banking hard, I reached out and snatched it as she jumped from the slipstream. I came about, smiled, and said, "Sorry!"

"What were you doing!"

"Catching the snitch, Professor." I held it up, and added, "Sorry if I scared you."

"That's two for you, lil' sis," Ian said as I handed it to him. He glanced at the other three, then said, "Sit out this next one. We need a reserve Seeker."

"I did it, I did it, I did it!" I squeaked, bouncing up and down.

"Keep it quiet until we make the announcement tonight," Karen said.

------------------------

Karen walked into the Common Room, flanked by Frank and Ian. She cleared her throat, and the room fell silent. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Snake's Den, it is my pleasure as your Quidditch Captain to announce the team for the 1998-1999 season. Ian and Frank are returning as your Beaters. I will be playing Chaser, as will Julie Dorney and Sprink Tonks. Each of them scored six goals." Sprink squealed, and I shushed her. Karen smiled, then added, "Keeper is James Dorney, who blocked an average of 70%, and Seeker is Mattie Wayne, with two of the four catches in practice." People started to whisper, and Karen said, "Reserves are…"

------------------------


	8. Classes, Week Four, First Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

8 - Classes, Week Four, First Year

------------------------  
Sunday, September 20, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin First year girl's dorm _**  
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" **_

I snapped awake, and lunged through the bed-hangings toward Sprink's bed. She was just drawing breath again when I said, "WHAT?"

She waved her hand, and said, "We're underwater!"

I blinked, and noticed that bubbles were lazily floating up when I breathed, the light was blue and flickering, and there was slight resistance to motion. "How?" I wondered.

"Some sort of spell or charm," Sprink guessed. "Let's see who else is affected."

* * *

Everyone in the Slytherin dorms was affected. Drying charms did not work on our wet clothing (although we remained comfortable and warm), empty rooms seemed to fill with water when even one person entered them, and walking outside seemed to fill the air to about a thirty foot depth. '_Finite incantatum_' did not work on this, although it did on other spells.

Ian said, "It's a good prank, I'll admit, and a clever bit of spellwork. We should get breakfast, nae matter how embarassin' it may be, then work out how to counter it, and THEN we can plan our revenge."

"All together to the Great Hall, then," Terry said. "We have to remain united in this."

As I squelched toward the Great Hall with the others, someone asked, "What about the Weasley Twins?"

Frank shook his head, "If they know, they won't tell. They won't violate a client's trust that way. Anyone got a good relationship with them? They might have some suggestions."

"A portable swamp sounds like fun," Ian commented. "You remember the present they left for Umbridge just before they left?"

"Ah, second year," Karen said. "Of course, the faculty got rid of them pretty quick once she was gone."

"Maybe they've improved it," Ian suggested.

Professor Harry came down the stairs, yawned, and said, "Excuse me. Good morning, everyone. You do know you're all somewhat ... wet?"

"We were pranked, Professor," Emma said.

"I assume you'd like to be un-pranked? Mind if I give it a go?" Professor Harry waved his wand, and called, "_Finite Incantatum_!" With a gurgle, the 'water' disappeared. "Nice spellwork," the Professor commented. He yawned again, and asked, "Sorry. You pick a good team yesterday?"

"We think we'll do well," Karen said. "Thanks for your help, Professor."

"You're welcome. Have a good day." He waved, and headed toward the Great Hall for breakfast.

* * *

As the fitting witch in Quality Quidditch adjusted my Seeker's gloves, she said, "You might want to look across the street at Parv & Lav's shop, luv. They've got a discount on Quidditch robes for school teams. With the 'orrible weather some games are in, you'll thank me."

"Thanks, I will. What do I owe you?"

"Let's just tot it up, luv. It'll be three and fifteen, dearie." I pulled the coins out, and waved as I left, bag in hand.

* * *

The bell over #12's door tinkled, and a dark haired witch said, "G'day! I'm Parvati." She nodded at my bag, and asked, "Quidditch robes?"

"Yes, the people over there said you had a sale?"

"We do! Let me get some measurements. Robes off, and up on the stand, please." She released a tape that crawled all over me, and called into the back room, "Oi, you two! Customers!" She asked, "What position and House?"

"Seeker for Slytherin. My housemates will probably be in shortly. What's so special about your robes?" I raised my arms at her gesture, as Professor Vector and some of my housemates came in. I waved, and two other girls came out of the back room, one with blonde pigtails.

Karen said, "Hello, Hannah, Lav. I didn't know you had opened a shop. Can you alter my existing robes?"

"Certainly!" the blonde answered. "Let me get some measurements. On the stand, please."

Parvati answered my question, "Our robes have built-in, self renewing heating, cleansing, and waterproofing charms, all Ministry-approved for Quidditch."

"Great!" Karen said. "I'll owl you my robes when I get back. If you can come up to the school sometime later this week, you can drop them off, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are having their tryouts next weekend." The Dorney twins came in with Sprink, who took Karen's place.

Professor Vector called after Karen, "Remember, we're meeting at the Cauldron for lunch!"

* * *

The bell over the door rang, and a black fellow with dreadlocks said, "Hello. I'm Lee, and welcome to the Wheeze. Can I offer you something to eat or drink?"

I grinned, "No, thanks. Is Fred or George in?"

"Sorry, no. Fred's picking up an order at Zabini's, and George went to Gringott's. Can I help?"

I shook my head. "They were doing some work for me, a private deal. Do you keep your client's purchases confidential?"

"Of course! Wouldn't be good for business if we didn't. What do you have in mind?"

"Pranking. I've heard about your portable swamps, and I wondered if you had a sample."

"Of course. We've a miniature sample set up over there, with variable size up to an acre."

"Nice and stinky, too. What's to prevent a professor from simply banishing it?"

"There's a charmed fob that the banisher has to be holding to successfully get rid of it. We tested it over the holidays, and it just gets stinkier and messier if you don't have the fob."

"Cool." I put a few things on the counter, and added, "Can you tell Gred and Forge that Mattie Wayne came by?"

* * *

I entered the clock shop, and Jessie said, "'Lo, Miss Wayne. What can I do for you?"

"I'm doing a bit of early Christmas shopping," I replied. I saw some very nice family clocks in oak, and asked, "Can I get eight of these in a desk version? They're for my parents and my brother and his wife, and my godparents. I'd also like to get some wristwatches with the family hands."

"Certainly. Muggle, magical, or a combination?"

"They know about magic, but they're in a muggle environment. Can you adjust the charm so only they can see the family hands?"

"No problem. Regular time as well?"

"Yes, for the East Coast of the US, please. Oh, and a wristwatch and bedside clock with multiple alarms for me."

"No worries. It will be twenty galleons each for the desk clocks, and ten for the wristwatches. I'll gift-wrap and owl them to you at Hogwarts." She pushed a bit of parchment to me, and said, "Let me have the names and locations for each person." I nodded, and Jessie cast the charm on one of each hand to verify identities.

As she was writing out my receipt, I pulled out my fountain pen, and asked, "Jessie, I'd like to get some of these as gifts for my housemates. Do you know where I can?"

"Scribbilus stationer's is three doors down on the left. That's where I got me muggle pen!" She proudly pulled out a cheap Bic, and I smiled weakly.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, September 24, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office  
_**------------------------  
"Good morning, Professor! Good morning, Mr. Hat!" I said as I strolled into the Headmaster's office.

The Hat replied, "Good morning, Miss Wayne."

The Headmaster twinkled at me, and said, "A good morning to you also, Miss Wayne. How do you feel?"

"Not bad, thank you, sir." I took my seat next to the fire.

"Good, good," the Headmaster nodded. "I appreciate your passing on the information from your sister-in-law. I distributed copies of her questionnaire at the staff meeting yesterday, and will have the answers back next week."

"I'm sure that will be fine," I said. "She mentioned that she would be coming for the Quidditch match on November seventh, and asked if it would be possible to come a few days early for her examination." I smiled, and added, "She'd like to watch the game."

"I see no problem with that. How will they arrive?"

I shrugged, and admitted, "I don't know for certain, but presumably flying the Lear into Inverness, and renting a van there to drive."

"Well, they must be met. I'll ask Harry if he would mind joining you. I believe he and Professor Croft are the only ones who know how to 'drive' a vehicle." He smiled, and then asked, "Ready? Onward then! '_Legilmens_!'"

* * *

I rappelled down the inside of Gryffindor Tower's ventilation shaft, and peered through the grate into the Common Room. I saw Ginny with Shadow, and had a twinge of regret, but the prank was non-toxic, just annoying. This was the last of the other three House common rooms I had to 'treat'. I grinned, and checked my protective Bubblehead charm, giving me a clean supply of air, and set the powdered potion to silently disburse. It had taken three days for Ian to brew. I heard a sneeze, and Shadow looked around, then at the grate I hid behind. I scampered back, then hit the rewind to get back up to the roof, and my broom.

------------------------  
**_Friday, September 25, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
_**------------------------

I was beginning to wonder if the powder was working, when I heard a loud BRAAAAPPPP! The student in question, a blonde in Ravenclaw looked horrified. Another loud noise came from Hufflepuff, and soon a symphony of flatulence was rising over the Great Hall. We quickly cast the Bubblehead charm on ourselves, and left for our classes.

* * *

"Good morning, everyone!" Professor Harry said. He tossed his robe over a chair, delicately sat on the edge of a table, and looked at Sprink and I. He added, "That was a _most_ amusing prank that Slytherin pulled this morning." Sprink and I tried to look innocent, and he snorted in amusement. "Please pass up your homework while I call the roll. Mr. Adams?"

"... and Miss Wayne. Now then, we got a little sidetracked last week. That's my fault, and if any of you were upset, I apologize. Now then, Miss Leeds asked about what spells I used against Voldemort." He smiled, and said, "I'd really rather not go into specifics about the spell. It's a dark one from Egypt that my friend Bill Weasley found in the archives of Ramses the Great. It's a complete paralysis spell, similar to stupefy. I then used the spell on a Chinese dagger to confine his soul, since he'd reincarnated before. To be sure, I then decapitated him, and removed his heart. His body, and all of these things are in a very secure location."

"The Ministry?" someone asked.

He shook his head, and with a grin, said, "No, Gringotts. I trust the goblins. Now then, on to your homework!" People groaned, and he said, "Come now, people. I was very pleased with what you had. By the by, I only had one person try for the extra two hundred point bonus, and one person tried to justify an Unforgivable. Let's start with that, shall we?"

He shifted, then said, "Miss Tonks. You had a nicely reasoned argument with historical references for using Cruciatus for interrogation. While it's true that during Voldemort's first rise, Aurors were authorized by the Ministry to use Cruciatus for interrogation, the problem with it is that it doesn't work." He held up his hand, and added, "I'm not saying the spells didn't work, but when you're interrogating someone, the objective is to get information, _reliable_ information, and not simply to torture the poor sod. That was a problem with the Inquisition, among others."

He jumped down from the table and started to pace. "For those of you who aren't familiar with the Spanish Inquisition, starting in the mid 1500's the Catholic Church used torture to ... _convince_ ... people to confess to witchcraft, consorting with the devil, and so forth. This is one reason that wizarding society went underground, and in 1692 passed the Protective Acts, forbidding information about wizarding society to be passed to muggles." He grinned, and said, "Now, those of you who have muggle rellies will know that it's difficult to hide your magic. That's why the Underage Magic act was passed. Until you gain your majority at seventeen, you can't use magic outside of school." People groaned, and he raised a finger. "However, there is an exception: if you, another wizard, or a muggle is in mortal danger, you can use magic. Each case is examined by the ministry, though." He leaned against a table, and said, "Let me give you an example. The summer before my fifth year, I was walking with my muggle cousin in the park, when Dementors attacked us. I used the Patronus spell to drive them off, and had to answer at an inquiry."

"To get back to the usage of Unforgivables, though, what are the conditions that will get you sent to Azkaban? Mr. Morton?"

"Using them at all, sir?" Professor Harry made a 'come on' motion, but Arthur paused a bit, then shook his head.

"There's a qualifier to their use. Anyone?" He eyed the class, then said, "It's illegal to use them _on a human_. However, if I were to use an Unforgivable on a chair, that would be perfectly legal. Now, this is a bit beyond first year, but in a fight, you can use _animus_ to get an inanimate object, like a chair, to move, and _imperio_ to direct it." He summoned a chair, transfiguring it on the fly into a wooden shield, then directing it to fly around the room. He transfigured the chair back, and added, "I should mention the distinction between 'being' and 'beast'. In 1811 it was decided that a 'being' was any creature that has sufficient intelligence to understand magical law, and to bear a part in enforcing it. Therefore, a goblin is considered a 'being', while a troll is considered a beast." He held up a hand, and added, "Just because a being is not human does not mean you can use an Unforgivable on it. Goblins, ghosts, elves, centaurs and others all have their own magic, which they will use in self-defense. Are we all sorted on that?"

"Moving on," Harry said. "Interrogation is usually done with Veritaserum. This is a clear, odorless potion you will get to in fifth year. It is a very powerful truth potion, and is also under Ministry control. Professor Snape, as one of half a dozen or so Potion Masters in Britain, is licensed to keep and brew it. I'll give twenty points to Miss Tonks for a valiant try, and on to the extra credit assignment, which was to name a spell I hadn't heard of."

"The only one who gave it a go was Mr. Morton." Harry gestured, and added, "Mr. Morton, if you would demonstrate, please?"

Arthur swallowed nervously, and stepped up to the front of the class. "My spell is to shift the colors of a rainbow. First, I create a rainbow with '_arcus_', and then I change it with '_Arcus rechromis_'." The colors shifted, and reversed, and I applauded with everyone else.

"Very nice, Mr. Morton. Two hundred points to you for Hufflepuff." Professor Harry smiled as Arthur scampered back to his seat. "I hadn't heard of '_arcus_', and the colour shift was a nice touch. Now, some might ask, what use is it in a fight? Mr. Morton?"

"Um. If you cast it in someone's eyes, you can blind them for a few seconds?" Arthur suggested.

"Hmm. Good point," Professor Harry mused. "The old 'sand in the face' tactic. Most wizards depend on their vision to focus and cast spells in a fight, and it would take a few seconds to cast '_finite incantatum_' to cancel the spell. Very good, Mr. Morton, I'll add another fifty points for Hufflepuff. Would you like to demonstrate this at the DA meeting?" Arthur shook his head, and Professor Harry frowned, before adding, "If you don't mind, then I will, with full credit to you. People, this is a spell you might wish to add to your own personal grimore."

Charlie held up his hand, and asked, "Sir, what's a grimore?"

"Think of it as a personal magical notebook, Mr. Adams. Some people use it for potions and spells, others separate potions into a formulary. I thought they had them on the booklists." People shook their heads, and Professor Harry shook his head. "I'll have to suggest it to Professor McGonagall for next term. She compiles the booklists for students. In any case, let me show you mine." He turned toward his office, and called, "_Accio grimore_." A book that was a good foot thick flew out of his office, into his hand. He tapped it with his wand, and muttered something, then held it up. "This is my grimore. I've separated my potions into a formulary, although I'm not the potion-brewer that someone like Professor Snape is. His formulary would be much more extensive than mine is."

He flipped it open, and added, "A starter grimore would have two sections, the first for potions, the second for spells. When you first get a grimore, you put a drop of your blood on the frontispiece, which binds your magic to the book. You can then put additional wards and defensive charms on it, but only you can modify it. Does anyone here have one?" He looked around, then said, "I'll bring this up with your Heads. I think you should start to compile one when you start your magical education. In any case, to use it, you would open your grimore to a blank page. I'm going to place Mr. Morton's spell under defensive spells for now. You can categorize and change as necessary. Some people like to write the spells, I just dictate." He paged through to a blank page, then told the book, "Spell entry. '_Arcus_': creates a rainbow-coloured band of light. Associated spell: '_arcus rechromis_' rearranges the light's pattern. Usage: Temporary blinding of an opponent. Source: Arthur Morton. Date entered: now." He handed the book to Charlie, and I leaned over to see. It was neatly printed in a semi-ornate font, with the date and time at the bottom of the page.

He grinned as Charlie handed it back to him, "I confess, my handwriting is not the neatest, which is why I dictate." He closed the book, and added, "Let's move on with the defensive spells. Roshawn, you had an interesting variant on _protegro_. Why don't you and your sister demonstrate for us?"

------------------------  
**_Saturday, September 26, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin Common Room  
_**------------------------

"Ah, Mr. Pritchard," I said as I sat down. "May I have a moment of your time?"

"What do you want?" he sneered, then saw the Gringott's letterhead. A worried look flashed across his face.

"Two things. First, I've been horrible to you since I met you. Admittedly, that was after you insulted me, but that's no excuse for me, and I'd like to apologize." He blinked in surprise, then managed a stiff nod.

"Secondly, I've the repair and replacement figures for my computer. Gringott's was kind enough to convert them to galleons for me." I passed him the pages, and he swallowed. I drew my wand, and muttered, '_obscurus_', then waited for him to look up at me.

"Mr. Pritchard, I don't believe it's fair for you to pay repair prices on two-year old equipment." I took the repair quote for 600 galleons and turned it upside down on the table. He looked nervously at the Gringott's letter converting the sales receipt to 446 galleons. "Good bit of money, isn't it?" I asked. He nodded, and I said, "First of all, because you're a housemate, I'm willing to accept payments, so you've got until the end of term in June to pay it. Acceptable?" He nodded, and I added, "There's a muggle concept called 'depreciation'. Know what it is?" He shook his head, and I said, "The current fair market value of a bit of equipment. For instance, the price of a Firebolt now, versus two years ago." He nodded, and I said, "I've gotten a newer, better bit of equipment, but an insurance company would only pay part of that price, so that's what I'm asking from you, 200 galleons by the end of term in June. Do we have an agreement?" I held out my hand.

"What... what will you tell people?" he asked.

"I'll say that we have a private agreement, and that's all anyone needs to know, including Professor Snape. All I need is your word, Mr. Pritchard."

"You have it," he said as I shook his hand. He glanced at it, then said, "I'm still conscious!"

I laughed, and wrote down my Gringott's number for him. "It's a matter of pressure points," I told him. "When I patted you on the back, I used the pressure points in your shoulder to knock you out."

"Without magic..." he breathed.

"Muggles aren't _too_ stupid," I looked at his eyes, and warned him, "I've spent the last five or six years studying the martial arts. It takes a lot of discipline and work to master them."

"Like Transfiguration?" he asked, and I groaned. He banished the privacy shield, and asked, "Need some help?"


	9. Classes, Week Ten, First Year

------------------------

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

------------------------  
**9 - Classes, Week Ten, First Year  
**------------------------  
_**Wednesday, November 4, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
**_------------------------

"Ready to go, Miss Wayne?" I looked up, and Professor Harry was standing next to me. He reached over and snagged a piece of fruit, then sat when Terry budged over for him.

I took a quick gulp of milk, then asked, "Sure. How are we getting there? Should I get my broom?"

He swallowed the bit of fruit, then said "No, I'll apparate us, although you might want to fetch another jumper or a coat. The wind off the firth can be cold."

I nodded, and then said, "Oh, Sprink! Could you turn in my homework to Professor McGonagall for me?" She nodded, and I dug it out of my bag.

------------------------

As we walked toward Hogsmeade, I ventured, "Professor? I had a question, if you don't mind." He nodded, and I asked, "When you taught us the Unforgivables, you mentioned that you'd know if they were used. Does that mean you monitor us all the time?"

He shook his head, "No. The Ministry monitors for those, and for underage magic usage. I mentioned that in class, remember my cousin and the Dementor?"

I asked, "So when are we going to see a Dementor in the DA?"

He looked at me, then said, "Believe me, you DON'T want to see one. They're horrible creatures, horrible. They suck all the happiness, all the joy out of your life." He was quiet, then added, "I've several boggarts, possibly next week we'll use one." He paused, then said, "Hang it all. Can you keep a secret?"

I looked at him, and he grinned, adding, "Sorry. I forgot who your folks are. We're out of sight of the castle. Have you ever apparated before?"

"Once, on a trip to Diagon Alley. I thought you couldn't apparate from Hogwarts?"

"Very few can." He took my hands, and ...

.... we appeared in a parking garage. I looked around, and Professor Harry said, "The lift's over here."

------------------------

We waited in the Arrivals section, behind the Customs booth as the gleaming white jet moved toward the terminal, the simple **_Wayne_** crest on its tail. It stopped, a crew ran out, and an official walked toward the plane.

"Mattie!" Mom called, and I ran toward them. We had a group hug, and then I disconnected myself. I grinned, and said, "Everyone, this is one of my professors, Harry Potter."

"Good to meet you at last, Mr. Potter," Babs said. She grinned, shook his hand, then said, "I'm Barbara Grayson, but please call me Babs. From what your press makes you out to be, I thought you'd be eight feet tall and covered with hair."

"No, that's my friend Hagrid. Please, call me Harry," he said with a grin. He shook Dick's hand, got a quick hug from Mom, and a sizing-up eye, followed by a firm handshake from Dad.

"Mattie hasn't been misbehaving _too_ much, has she?" Dick asked as we walked toward the luggage carousel. He ruffled my hair as I complained, "Dick!"

"No, she's been very good. Top marks in my classes, too." Harry said.

"That _is_ suspicious," Babs said. "What about those cauldrons the first week of school, young lady?" she asked. "Hmm? Come on now, spill."

"Weeeeelllll, that was a little, tiny insignificant mistake on my part," I hedged.

"Which she hasn't repeated," Harry added with a grin. "To my knowledge."

Babs made a 'come on' gesture as Dick pushed her wheelchair. Mom raised her eyebrow, and I said, "Well, it was the first weekend of school. I had just had my first Occlumency lesson from Professor Dumbledore, and we were talking about it..."

------------------------

"Oof. Babs, what did you load in here, lead?" Dick asked.

"A couple changes of clothes, some shoes. Nothing much." She winked at me, and Harry asked, "Is that everything?"

"I think so. We'll need a forklift for all of your shoes, though, Babs."

"Gather round, then," Harry said. We formed a huddle, and Harry took out his wand, and whispered '_Tollenosis_'. He grinned, and quietly said, "Featherweight charm. Mattie could carry them all now."

"Hmm. That could be handy," Dick said. "Let's get these loaded on a cart, and go find Bruce with the van."

------------------------

"So, how do we get there?" Dad asked from behind the wheel.

"We need to get on the A96 toward Inverness, then the A9, and finally the 662 toward Avoch," Harry said. He traced the route on a map, adding, "We're going around Moray Firth, looking for a town called Evanton. We'll get off the 662 just before it, and then I'll show you how to find Hogsmeade."

"Drive on the wrong side Bruce," Dick called from the middle seat, next to Babs. Harry chuckled from the front left seat, and I grinned at Mom, next to me in the back.

------------------------

The rental van moved through the tiny village of Hogsmeade, and pulled up when Harry motioned. "There it is. Hogwarts." Everyone craned over to see. The last time I had seen the whole castle was from the train platform, at night, but it was still a magnificent sight.

We gazed for a few minutes, then Mom ruffled my hair, and Dad put the van in motion.

------------------------

Professor Dumbledore was waiting for us, along with a house-elf. We clambered out, and got Babs into her chair. He smiled, and said, "You must be Mrs. Grayson. I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. I'd like to welcome you, but let's move along out of the wind. We've arranged connecting quarters for you on the third floor, and this is Cindy, your house-elf. She'll be available to assist you in anything you might need."

"Thank you, Mr. Dumbledore," Babs said. "This is my husband Dick, and you know Bruce and Selina Wayne."

"I certainly do! Welcome, welcome back!" He shook hands, and then shook Dick's hand. With a wave, the massive oak doors opened, Bab's chair floated into the air, and we followed it inside.

------------------------

"I'll leave you to get re-acquainted now, and I'll see you again at dinner. Please call me if I can do anything for you." Professor Harry nodded politely, and moved back toward the staircase as we entered the suite.

"Well, now. This is certainly nice," mom said as Cindy lit the fires, and asked, "When's dinner?"

I checked my watch, and said, "In about an hour and a half. Would you like to check in at the Infirmary? It's just down the hall."

They glanced around, and Babs said, "That would probably be best. By that time that's finished, we can get dinner. Should we eat here, or with you, Mattie?"

"Normally, I eat with my housemates in the Great Hall. You're welcome to join us." I grinned, and added, "They've been dying of curiosity, and Cindy can get you all unpacked and ready." Dad looked sharply at me, and I said, "House-elves are _very_ discreet. They don't reveal secrets, Dad, and only four people here know about the sub-basement: Professor Harry, Professor Snape, my head of house, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress."

He nodded, "All right. Let's get Barbara squared away, and then we can eat."

------------------------

Dick and I held open the doors to the Infirmary, and Madame Pomfrey bustled up. She smiled, and said, "You must be Mrs. Grayson. Please, come in, come in. I'd like you to meet my associate, Narcissa Black, and her son, Draco."

"Draco's here?" I asked. Barbara turned, and let out an 'eep!' of surprise. I frowned, and said, "Draco, not everyone's used to ghosts. Everyone, this is Draco Malfoy. You remember that goblin scroll from June? Draco was killed then."

"Sorry, Mattie," Draco said. He smirked, and added, "This is my mum Narcissa, who is very much alive."

Barbara shook the tall blonde's hand, and said, "Thank you for agreeing to see me."

"Our pleasure," she replied. "It's the least we can do for kin. If you'd like, we can examine you now, while Mattie can show the rest of you about a bit." Barbara squeezed Dick's hand who said quietly, "I'll stay, if that's all right." Dad clapped him on the shoulder, and we left.

------------------------

"Where to first?" I asked. "Top down, or bottom up?"

"Why don't we start where you live, munchkin, and go from there?" Dad said.

"Okay, off to the dungeons," I said, taking their hands, and leading them down a staircase. "The stairs move, by the way," I added, as another one mated with a clunk on our landing. "C'mon, that's a faster way down."

------------------------

I motioned to a door, and said, "That's the Potions classroom, and here is Professor Snape's office." I stopped at the entrance, and said, "This is the Slytherin common room." I told the door, '_essence of hellebore_', it opened, and I waved them in.

"Hey, Mattie!" Karen called. I waved, and said as Karen stood up, "Mom, Dad, this is Karen Bundy. Karen's a fifth-year, and our Quidditch team captain."

"I'm looking forward to seeing the game, and watching Mattie." Mom said.

"Well, then we have to outfit you properly!" Karen said. "Mattie, I thought your brother and sister-in-law were coming?"

"They're up in the Infirmary," I said.

"That's right, Narcissa was going to look at her spine. Well, we'll get them kitted out too. Half a 'mo, please!" Karen stuck her quill in her textbook, and ran down to her dorm. Dad looked at the title of her book, which read '_Defensive spells and jinxes for the paranoid, level five_'. He looked at Mom, and Karen ran back in, saying, "It's supposed to be in the 40's and breezy Saturday, so we want you nice and warm. Here we go, with warming charms on all of them, nice woolen hat, gloves, and scarf, all in proper Slytherin colours!"

------------------------

I carried the extra woolens for Dick and Barbara as we walked back up to the Infirmary. Barbara waved from a prone position, floating with a hover charm as Narcissa, Draco and Madame Pomfrey murmured over a charmed representation of her spine. She looked in a hovering mirror as Dick held her hand, and asked, "How does it look?"

"Removal doesn't look particularly difficult," Madame Pomfrey said. "However, you'll need to drink nerve and muscle regeneration potions every three hours after that for a few days, and exercise to reacquaint you with walking. We'll tell Severus the particulars, and he'll mix them right up. I don't see why you can't walk out of here by the middle of next week."

"Fifteen years in a wheelchair..." Babs mumbled, teary-eyed. "THANK YOU."

"Pish-tosh. Nothing to it, dearie." Madame Pomfrey said.

"You thought we wouldn't help?" Narcissa asked with a smile. "Now the only real question is if you want to watch the game on Saturday, or go through surgery then?"

"Why wait?" Dick asked. "When can you start?"

"I would prefer you get a day's rest first, to get over the travel shock," Madame Pomfrey said. "Friday would be the soonest, we can immobilize you if necessary for the game." The bell rang, and she added, "Classes are over for the day. You said you wanted to eat in the Great Hall with Miss Wayne and her housemates?"

------------------------

Cindy floated Babs down the staircases to the ground floor, then we turned left through the double doors into the Great Hall. Babs parked herself at the end of the table, and Dick sat to her right, mom and dad to her left. I said to the table, "Everyone, this is my mom and dad, my brother Dick and sister-in-law Barbara. They're here for the game."

"Well, not only for the game," Barbara said. "A bit of surgery, and ... oh, Mr. Dumbledore, may I tell them?"

"I will be making an announcement in a few minutes, Mrs. Grayson." The Headmaster said. She nodded, and asked the table, "So, what should I know about Quidditch?"

------------------------

Professor Dumbledore stood, and tapped his goblet. The Great Hall quieted, and he said, "I have a simple announcement to make. As you may have noticed, we have guests tonight at the Slytherin table. Mrs. Grayson is here from the States, not only to enjoy the Quidditch match on Saturday, but also to plan the installation of a computer network into your individual Houses and the Library. We hope to have this installed by the time you return from the Christmas holidays. Your Heads will each be holding a House meeting for staff and students on Friday afternoon, therefore the classes that afternoon are cancelled."

There was an excited buzz, and the Headmaster held up his hand. "We have determined that it is not convenient for Mrs. Grayson to continually monitor the network from the United States. Each house will therefore have two people to fix problems as they arise. They will have additional rights and responsibilities, as do prefects." He smiled, and added, "The staff will be considered another House for this purpose." There was more speculation, and the Headmaster had to tap his goblet again. "Two other points to mention to you. We will be hiring a full-time network administrator, who will be considered staff, with all of the concomitant duties and privileges. She is a relative of one of you, and will be arriving tomorrow morning. I expect you to treat her as you would any member of the faculty."

More excited speculation, and another tap on the Headmaster's goblet. "Lastly, the following persons are excused from classes tomorrow afternoon, to meet with Mrs. Grayson and our new administrator." He peered at a bit of parchment, and said, "From the staff, Professors Flitwick and Potter. From Gryffindor, Mr. Clausen and Mr. Spencer. From Hufflepuff, Miss Branstone and Miss Michaels. From Ravenclaw, Mr. Li and Miss Quirk, and finally from Slytherin, Miss Wayne and Miss Bundy. Please meet me in the fourth-floor corridor at one o'clock."

------------------------  
_**Thursday, November 5, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin House, First year girls' dorm  
**_------------------------

"Here's the homework from Transfig, Mattie," Sprink told me. "So, how'd you get appointed one of the Prefects, mate?"

I shrugged. "Thanks. Can you catch Potions for me this afternoon? I knew Barbara and Professor Dumbledore were talking, and I passed some stuff back and forth. Professor Dumbledore asked me to keep it quiet, though." I added, "I told him that I got my stuff from Karen's sister in London, and my folks are donating some equipment for the network, but that's really all I know."

"Good equipment?"

I snorted, "My family buys ONLY top-of-the-line equipment. With that and Bab's expertise, this network should be bloody greased lightning."

------------------------

Professor Dumbledore stopped at the Slytherin table, and "Miss Wayne, since your sister-in-law is undergoing surgery this morning, if you would like to be there, we can postpone today's lesson."

"I thought that was tomorrow, Professor," I asked.

He shrugged, "They decided to move it up, I do not know why. I confess, it works out well for my scheduling, as I am meeting with our new administrator in a few hours, once she's fetched from London."

"Thank you, Professor, I will," he nodded and moved on, and I asked, "Who has relatives in London?"

"At a guess, maybe twenty percent of the school," Emma Dobbs said. She called, "Oi! Anyone running book on which house the new teacher's from?"

Vickie Frobisher in Gryffindor waved, and called back, "I am." Professor McGonagall frowned at her, and I moved over to join the line. Someone asked, "What if they're a muggle or a squib?"

"I'll go by the House they're closest relative's in," Vickie said. I looked around, and didn't see someone. I moved up, and told her with a smile, "I've got five galleons on Slytherin."

"Long odds on that house," Vickie said. "Not too many muggle rellies there."

"Well, house pride and all," I admitted. She grinned, and gave me a receipt, and I asked, "Anyone taking book on Saturday's game?"

"Luna in Ravenclaw," she said. "She's the only one crazy enough to, since you Snakes STILL haven't released a player roster. Care to enlighten us?" I smiled and shook my head.

------------------------

Surgery wasn't what I was expecting. Babs floated with a hover charm; her spine exposed while Narcissa and Madame Pomfrey moved their wands. Occasionally, a puff of vapor would arise from the frosty air, and a black blob would disappear from the charm showing her spine.

"That looks like the lot," Narcissa said as she stretched, back crackling. "I don't see any other bits of metal."

"How can you be sure?" Dick asked.

"Hold your left hand under her, dearie," Madame Pomfrey said as she stretched. "You'll see your wedding ring there in the charm. It is set to detect metal, and the only bits I see are in your wife's brassiere hooks."

"Dick?" Babs asked.

"Only thing I see, Babs. It moves when I move my hand. I think that's all of it, too."

"Good. Thank you, Draco, for chilling her down. Narcissa, could you close, please?"

"My pleasure," Draco said as he reappeared. He moved so Babs could see him, and said, "Sorry for touching you, Mrs. Grayson."

Babs extended a hand to him, and said, "No problem, Draco. Thank you for your help." He grinned, and touched her hand. Madame Pomfrey bustled up with two steaming potions, and he winced. "One advantage of being dead - no more horrible tasting potions!"

"Now, Draco!" She turned to Babs and said, "The green one is for your muscles, the blue for your nerves. Every three hours like clockwork, and we'll tell your house-elf. You should have feeling back in your legs by this afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am," Babs said. She sipped at the first, then with a wince, gulped it down. "Gaa! Please tell me the other is better." She sipped, then said, "I don't know which is worse," and gulped it.

"There are much more horrible tasting potions," Narcissa advised. "Have some chocolate, it will help."

"Motivation to endure those. Thanks," Babs said, then asked, "Is Kelly here yet?"

"Ha! I just won money! Thanks, Babs!" I said. She cocked an eyebrow at me, and I said, "There's a book on which house the new teacher is from. I put five galleons on Slytherin."

"Keep it quiet, then. Shouldn't you be in class?" Dick asked.

"I'm normally with Professor Dumbledore now, for my Occlumency lessons. It worked out better for both of us to postpone today's lesson," I grinned at Dick, and said, "I could spend time with my favorite brother and sister-in-law!"

"Oh, that's promising! Did you feel that, dear?" Madame Pomfrey asked. "Do it again, please, Narcissa."

"No, I didn't. What's promising?" Babs asked.

"You're wiggling your toes when Narcissa runs a quill over your feet, dear. That's a very good sign."

------------------------

At one o'clock, I joined the others in the fourth-floor corridor, waiting for Professor Dumbledore to appear with Kelly. The Ravenclaws sat against the banister, catching up on some studying, while Harry spoke quietly with Professor Flitwick. I leaned on the banister, and quietly told Karen, "Looks like your sister gets her wish to come to Hogwarts."

She grinned, and whispered, "She was so excited this morning when I showed up with Professor Sinistra, she was bouncing off the walls."

"In time to see you play Quidditch, too."

"That's even better," she looked around, and added quietly, "She was thrilled to finally get her own wand, too. That's one reason we ran a bit late, she's always stealing mine at home, trying to do magic. I think she's finally managed '_wingardium leviosa_'."

"Hey, if I can help her, please let me know. You guys have helped my family out..." Karen made a 'pshaw' noise, then said, "Hey, there they are!"

"Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you for coming," Professor Dumbledore said. "I apologize for our tardiness. I would like to introduce Miss Kelly Bundy, our new administrator, and some of you may already have met Mrs. Grayson. Now then, based on what Mrs. Grayson specified, I have chosen this room for your meetings and the equipment you will need. The current password is '_perspicientia_'." The large painting moved aside, and he waved us in, adding, "Please keep this information confidential."

The room looked like a small classroom, with a blackboard along one side, tables, chairs, and so forth. We took a seat, the door closed, and Babs said, "Good afternoon, and thank you, Professor Dumbledore. While Kelly is handing out notes, let me just go over how we're setting up the network, who can do what, and who to call when you can't figure it out..."

------------------------  
**_Friday, November 6, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, everyone!" Professor Harry said. He tossed his robe over a chair, and said, "Is everyone looking forward to tomorrow's Quidditch game?" He grinned, and said, "I promise I'll try not to catch the snitch myself. Now, let's see who's here. Mr. Adams?"

"... and Miss Wayne. By the by, Miss Wayne, do you have Slytherin's team roster? I know you were going to try out."

I kept a straight face, and said, "Professor Snape said he'll give it to you, sir."

"Finally!" he said. "Why the delay?"

Sprink glanced at some Gryffindors, and answered, "Confusion to the enemy, sir."

Charlie Adams said with a grin, "Slytherins!"

"Smile when you say that, or we'll start using Hufflepuffs instead of Gryffindors in our evil experiments!" I shot back with a grin.

"People, people! Settle down," Professor Harry called. "Now then, we didn't finish our review from last week. Let's continue down the alphabet with Miss Leeds, and then Mr. Kirke. Amanda, you had some interesting comments on '_dissendium_'."

------------------------

The bell rang, and Professor Harry called, "Remember, there are House meetings this afternoon. Everyone is expected to attend. Aside from that, if you're going to the Quidditch match, I hope you have a good time, and good luck to both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Have a good weekend!"

------------------------

I ran down to my dorm to dump my bag, then back to the common room. On the way up, Kelly intercepted me, and asked, "Please make sure each person gets a packet." Since Karen stood by the door, I moved around the room, handing out papers to those that needed them.

At one o'clock, Professor Snape stepped to the front of the room next to the fireplace, and asked, "Is everyone here?"

"Everyone but Professor Trelawney, sir," Karen called from the door.

He sighed, then said, "I will fetch her. Callista, please take over, and proceed without me." With a swirl of his black robes, he left.

"Right-o," Professor Vector said. She moved up next to the fireplace, and asked, "Everyone hear me? Right-o. As you are all aware from the Headmaster's comments, we will be installing one of those compulator networks here at Hogwarts. Now then, Karen's sister Kelly is who'll be running it day-to-day. Assisting her are the prefects, two for each house." She motioned, and Karen and I came forward to join Kelly. "They have the same rights and responsibilities as other prefects, so listen to them. Now then, Kelly will give us a run-down on what's what."

Kelly cleared her throat, "Thank you, Professor. Does anyone need a packet?" A couple hands waved, and I passed packets back as Kelly pulled a sheet off a table. "Now then. As you can see from the table, and also from the second page in your packets, there are several parts to a computer." She tapped on the item as she spoke, "This is a monitor - that's what you look at. A printer produces what you enter. A keyboard - where you enter your information, and the mouse, which is moved about to enter information. It all connects to the computer itself, which will normally be sitting on the floor." She raised her hand, and added, "I know it's a bit confusing, but in a short while, you'll get used to it. Now, there's one other bit that's not a standard part," She held up a slim black item with two cables coming out. "This is a wand-rest. It sits above the keyboard like so," she replaced it, "and you put your wand in it when using the computer. This is a bit of extra security, for instance if you're using a unit in the library, where anyone can sit and use it as opposed to here in the common room. Questions so far?"

Terry raised his hand, and asked, "What about getting units in the dorms?"

"We'll see how this works out first," Professor Vector replied.

"Moving on," Kelly said. "If you'll look at the top of page three, you'll see a line there for what's known as your user name. This is the first letter of your first name, and your last name. Yes, a question?"

Julie motioned to her brother, and asked, "What about duplicates?"

"Insert the first letter of your middle name, so mine would be '_kabundy_', and Karen's would be '_kcbundy_'. Simple enough?"

"A sickle it confuses some Gryffs!" someone called, and someone else answered, "No bet!" People laughed, and Kelly continued with a smile, "Now, when you return back to school in January, we'll go through and get everyone sorted with logging in. Your initial password will be '_Slytherin_', but you'll need to change it. Make a note to yourself, because you'll need three or four passwords, each with at least six, and no more than twelve characters. It's better if they have numbers in them. These you'll keep secret, and no one will ask for yours," she motioned to Kelly and myself, and added, "If we need to log in as you, we'll use our own wands and passwords."

"We need those now?" someone asked, and Karen said, "No, when you get back from Christmas break, have them. For instance, Mum rides a Cleansweep Five, so I might use that as a password. You'll need three or four like that." She motioned to the packets, and said, "There's space for notes, and we'll be here after for questions. Kelly?"

Kelly said, "Moving on, then. Page four has a diagram," people turned the page, and I heard several grunts of confusion. "There are three circles there, which illustrates where your files go."

There was continued muttering, and I glanced at Kelly, who nodded, "Let's take a bit of homework as an example," I said. "If I write an essay on the properties of a bezoar, I'm going to file it in my folder, the top circle. Only two people have access to it there, myself and Kelly."

"Why Kelly?" someone asked.

"I'm the administrator. I have to have access to everything," she said calmly. There was some muttering at this, and Narcissa said, "I have access to everyone's medical records, but I won't disclose anything. That doesn't bother anyone."

"No, but..." someone said.

Kelly answered, "I can't fix it if I can't get to it, now can I? Besides, I gave Professor Dumbledore my word I wouldn't abuse it. Mattie, you were saying?"

I nodded, "Right. Now, the bezoar essay, if I want to share it with Slytherin house, I'd move it to the middle circle. There, anyone who's a member of the Slytherin _group_," I waved at the packed common room, "can read it, change it, or delete it, depending on how I set the permissions. However, someone from Hufflepuff can't, they won't even know it exists."

"This is an example of my getting to things," Kelly said. "If someone cocks up the permissions on Mattie's essay so she can't change it to correct a hideous spelling error, then she's either got to start over on it, or contact someone that _can_ fix things. This is the most common place where people get things wrong, and this is also where Karen and Mattie can fix things."

She nodded at Professor Vector, and added, "The staff have an additional folder on this level, that can only be shared with other faculty and staff. Therefore, the Professor here would have access to not only the Slytherin folder, but also the staff folder. However, Karen and Mattie would _not_ have access to the staff folder, but I would."

"It's like warding your formulary," Karen said. "If you don't want Professor Snape to see the lust potions you've got hidden in there," a few people blushed, "then you change the permissions."

"The last circle is known as the 'world' folder, although it should properly be called the 'Hogwarts' folder," Kelly said. "If Mattie wants to share her essay with friends in Hufflepuff, she puts it there. Similarly, any prefect from any house can fix things here. So if you're in the library, and you need help on this folder, you can ask any prefect, not just Karen or Mattie. Is everyone sorted on the folder structure? Questions?"

"So does that mean you can get to McGonagall's Quidditch notes?" someone asked. Karen chuckled, and said, "I can't, although Professors Flitwick or Potter could, or Kelly."

"Assuming that she's put them on the computer, and that I'd be willing to nose about and break my oath like that?" Kelly said. "That brings up a few other things. First, we'll be connecting to both the Internet and the Maginet, so you'll have a lot more references available for research," I cheered, along with several others, and Kelly continued, "We'll also be putting the Hogwarts library on line, as a fully-searchable resource." I whooped, and did a happy dance. Kelly held up her hand, and said, "I glanced in the library, and that's going to take a _long_ time, there must be hundreds of thousands of books there."

"Millions, the last I heard," Professor Vector said. "What about private libraries, like ours?"

The door opened, and Professor Snape entered with Professor Trelawney. "What about our library?" he asked.

Kelly said, "Do we want to scan it into the library database? Remember that it would be available to both Hogwarts and the Maginet."

"Hmph. Something to consider," he admitted. Narcissa moved over to talk to Professor Trelawney, who didn't look at all well.

"If we don't want something available, then we simply don't enter it?" someone asked. Kelly nodded, but then added, "Remember, others have shared their information, so it's the honorable thing to share back." She shifted, then added, "Last thing, then I'll take questions. Please go back to the bottom of page three." There was a shifting of pages, and Kelly said, "E-mail. It's like magimail, only muggles and other people without a wand can also send to you. It's also much faster than owls, and the parchment doesn't get soaked with the rain. This way, if you have muggle friends, you can give them this address. This is also very easy, do you see the blank line to the left of the circular mark?"

People pointed it out to each other, and Kelly waited a minute, "The circular thing connects your address with Hogwarts' address. You would put your user name, then the circle, and then Hogwarts' address. As you can see, it's hogwarts, then a period, then edu, another period, and finally uk, with no trailing period."

"Where's the circular thing from?" someone called.

Kelly shrugged, and said, "It started in the 1970's, and means 'at'. When you're telling your address to someone, you'll give your user name, then AT hogwarts DOT edu DOT uk. The 'edu' part stands for a school, and the 'uk' part is for Great Britain." Kelly added, "You can also set up private mailing lists, for instance for a study group, class, or Quidditch team. However, remember that once an email is sent, it can't be recalled."

I said, "There is one drawback to email - spam."

"You had to mention that, didn't you?" Kelly said with a grimace. "Spam is junk email. It's advertising, except that it's all bollocks. The best thing to do if you don't recognize the mail is to delete it unopened. It's all trash, I guarantee it."

"Better they know now," I said. "If you see a bit of email that looks suspicious, call a prefect, but you're usually safe to delete it."

"Can't you block it?" someone asked.

"I can block some of it, but it's constantly changing," Kelly said, "You can set up traps, filters, and such, but they're not always successful. Any other questions?"

------------------------  
**_Saturday, November 7, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin Table  
_**------------------------

Barbara had been able to move her legs a bit this morning, although she was still using her wheelchair. Narcissa had given her several blankets (in Slytherin colors) for the game, and Babs chatted with people at the table. I had a bad case of butterfly stomach, so I had volunteered to hand out Slytherin hats and scarves to the students arriving for breakfast. Gryffindor hadn't thought of that little tactic.

"Go on, we'll finish up here," Emma said. I dithered, and she said, "Pre-game jitters?" I nodded, and she advised, "At least get some milk or something on your stomach. You'll be fine."

I sat down, and had a half-goblet of milk down, when Karen looked down the table, and said, "It's time!" Both our primary and reserve teams rose, and waved at the other houses as they speculated. As the Gryffindor teams rose to follow us, I saw Professor Snape smirk, and hand a bit of parchment to Professor Harry, who shot him an irritated look.

------------------------

After we had changed, we waited as Karen stood for the pre-game pep talk. "All right, everyone. I know most of you are nervous about your first game. Don't be. Everyone got their earworms in?" I nodded, but someone raised their hand, and the box from the Wheeze was passed to them. They inserted one end in their ear, and ran the slimy thing along their jaw to their mouth. Karen continued, "The earworms will let you talk to each other, and James will be running the team from the Keeper's position. In previous years Slytherin has used brute-force tactics, and that's what the other houses expect this year. Well, we're not doing that. We're sneaky, devious, and cunning, and that's how we're going to play. We've got good intelligence on the Gryffs, and we've seen Ginny practicing the same tactics as last year. Why shouldn't she, they beat us with them - why change what works?"

She paced, then said "Last year, Harry was their team captain, and he let Ron Weasley run the team. Ron is a better tactician than Ginny, although she's just as devious as we are - she should have been Sorted into the Den. I expect a few surprises from her, and I expect a scrupulously fair game from Professor Harry. If anything, I think he'll bend over backward in our favor, as his fiancée is captain of Gryffindor."

"What else? Ignore the crowd and the commentators. Professor McGonagall has the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff captains commentating, just like Ginny and I will be in three weeks time." Karen looked at us, and said, "Frank and Ian will be protecting us, and especially Mattie. Mattie, remember, you've got the fastest broom out there and you can cover the length of the pitch in a few seconds. Agility and maneuvering are the keys for you. Remember the first line in the Beater's Bible is to 'Take out the Seeker'. Because Ginny has more experience Seeking, you may want to mark her some of the time. Everyone, keep your perimeter charms on. Chasers, if you get boxed in, pass to someone else, don't risk a Stooging penalty." She looked us over, then said "Questions, anyone? The weather is 43 degrees, with light, gusty winds from the south. Let's play some QUIDDITCH!"

------------------------

I half-listened to the commentators, when Frank leaned back from his broom, and asked, "Nervous, lil' sis?"

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry, and Ian said, "Don' be. You'll do fine, and we'll keep an eye our f' ye. Let the chasers have a bit 'o fun, and then catch the snitch."

"Shh! Here we go!" Karen whispered, and the commentator said, "**...AND WEASLEY!**"

"**FROM SLYTHERIN HOUSE WE HAVE: BUNDY, DORNEY, DORNEY, MACDONALD, MACDONALD, TONKS AND WAYNE!**" I kicked off, and zoomed out of the tunnel after my teammates.

------------------------

Karen shook hands with Ginny as we waited the signal to kick off. The snitch was released, the whistle blew and we kicked off while the Quaffle was tossed into play. I rose with the others, and started to orbit while the Chasers fought over the Quaffle, passing and intercepting each other. I could see Ginny on the opposite side of the field, keeping an eye on the game and her team. My perimeter charm twitched, and I did a sloth roll, hanging upside down from my broom as the Bludger passed overhead. Ian bashed it toward Ginny as I remounted the broom, and continued looking for the snitch. James mentioned that Ginny had begun marking me, I acknowledged and half-listened to the suggestions and comments from the reserve team.

Something tugged at my hair as my charm tickled, I turned and saw Ginny closing on me. I saw a flash of gold, and the snitch zipped away from me. I dove, screaming after it, grabbed it, holding it up, and heard the commentators say, "**WE HAVE A CATCH! THE SNITCH HAS BEEN CAUGHT; THIS LOOKS LIKE A SCHOOL RECORD! WHAT'S THE OFFICIAL TIME? HOW MANY MINUTES? PLAYERS, PLEASE RETURN TO THE GROUND.**"

I grounded, and gave the snitch to Professor Harry, then looked at my teammates. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Pure luck," Karen said with a grin, as she went to meet with Ginny and Professor Harry.

"So, nae that ye've won ye' first game for Slytherin, how dae ye feel, lassie?" Frank asked.

"We won?"

"Aye," Ian said. "Ye didn'a use a summonin' charm or 'aught, did ye?"

"No! Besides, it would have been seen!"

"Aye, but they'll check anyway. Here's our bonnie wee Karen, nae."

"Subject to Professor Harry's verification, but it stands, as does your record, Mattie. Four minutes and three seconds," Karen said, "Now what?"

"I want to play Quidditch. I've got relatives in the stands," Julie said.

"So do I. Kick off, everyone," and as we rose to about seventy feet, level with the stands, Karen moved out in front of us. "**LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! SLYTHERIN HOUSE WELCOMES YOU TO THE FIRST GAME OF THE SEASON.**" People resumed their seats, and she continued, "**DUE TO THE SKILL OF OUR SEEKER, THE FIRST GAME SEEMS TO HAVE ENDED A BIT QUICKER THAN ANTICIPATED. WE HAVE A PROPOSAL FOR OUR FRIENDS IN GRYFFINDOR. WHILE IT WON'T BE AN OFFICIAL GAME, BECAUSE WE ALREADY WON THAT, WE WANT TO PLAY QUIDDITCH! WHAT SAY YOU, LIONS?**"

I saw Ginny huddling with her team as Professor Harry levitated a chest of Quidditch balls out to midfield. They broke up, and kicked off to match our semicircle of players, while Ginny flew up beside Karen. "**GRYFFINDOR HOUSE ALSO WELCOMES OUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS BACK TO HOGWARTS FOR ANOTHER EXCITING QUIDDITCH SEASON! THE LIONS ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE FROM OUR FRIENDS IN THE SNAKE'S DEN, AND WISH THEM LUCK, BECAUSE THEY'LL NEED IT!**" Ginny said something else to Karen, who laughed and shook her hand. The teams were motioned back to the ground, the balls were released, and the game was on.

------------------------

My perimeter charm tickled, and I swerved to avoid the Bludger. It zoomed past, then dove toward a Gryff chaser. I kept an eye on Ginny, she had faked a couple moves I had fallen for. The Gryff dodged the Bludger and I looked around. Our chasers were having a grand time, scoring on the poor Gryff keeper almost at will. The bell 'dinged', and I glanced at the scoreboard, we were up another ten points, 160-30.

Gryffindor came up field with the Quaffle, but it didn't do them much good, as Julie intercepted a pass and went back down. I saw a glint of gold and dove, as Karen and Sprink passed back and forth, while Julie went in a ballistic arc and dove toward the Gryffindor goal. A quick pass, another 'ding', and it was 170-30. The flicker of gold was near the Gryffindor goals, but their keeper was falling. Our chasers were in midfield, where the game's attention was. I flattened myself against my broom to race gravity.

"Got you!" I skewed with the mass imbalance, almost coming off my broom as I grabbed the collar of his robes. He grabbed the broom handle while I circled to put him down. I don't think either of us cared about the foul. I landed (creating another foul), and asked, "You all right? What happened?"

"Yeah. Thanks, mate," He sat, shaking his head, then said, "Starfish without the Stick is definitely not recommended. Father would NOT be pleased if I went splat."

"Well, at least our fouls cancel each other out," I admitted.

"True," he agreed. "We really didn't get a chance to talk yesterday, in the computer meeting." He stuck out his hand, saying, "Harry Spencer, rather battered Keeper."

"Mattie Wayne, new Seeker." I shook his hand, then added, "Should we rejoin the game?"

"Looks like they're joining us," he said. "When did you blokes develop new tactics?"

"When we got bored with the old ones," I admitted.

"That ballistic one is rather clever, and deuced hard to defend against. I wonder what the score is?"

"170-30, last I checked."

Ginny landed, and overheard my last comment, "Actually, Mattie, it's 170-180." She held up the snitch, and I groaned.

Ian landed next to her, and said, "Daen't worry, lil' sis. Ye caugh' it the first time, and thae be the one what counts." He offered Harry his broom, and said, "Here ye' broom, mate. Be careful oot' thar'."

Karen landed, and smiled, saying "What a game! You two all right?" I looked at Harry, and nodded.

Ginny cleared her throat, and said delicately, "Karen, we had a wager on the game?" She frowned, then nodded. Ginny took her scarf off, and passed it to Karen, who wrapped it around her throat, over her own. Karen looked at us, and said, "We're wearing Gryff scarves for a week, people." Harry unwrapped his, tossing it to me, then saying, "I feel a chill coming on. Mattie, have you a scarf I could borrow?" I grinned, and tossed him mine.

------------------------


	10. Classes, Week Seventeen, First Year

------------------------

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

------------------------  
**10 - Classes, Week Seventeen, First Year  
**------------------------  
_**Monday, December 21, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Greenhouse One  
**_------------------------

The bell rang, and Professor Sprout looked up at the clock, adding, "Oh, my! Homework, dears!" People groaned, and she said with a smile, "Come now! Your assignment is to have a very Happy Christmas, and I'll see you back on the fourth!"

She smiled, and moved off toward her office. I said to Sprink and the others, "I've got a question for her. Go on, and I'll see you at lunch." I collected my books, and knocked on the Professor's office door. "Professor? Got a minute?"

She waved me in, and I closed the door. "What can I do for you, Miss Wayne?"

"Not so much for me, but for Arthur Morton, Professor," I said as I took a seat. "He and the Cortez sisters are flying back with me to the States. They and their families are invited to stay with us in Gotham for Christmas Eve, because our flight will be getting in late." She nodded, and I continued, "The Cortez family isn't that far away in New York, but Arthur's family is in Columbus; his father's work schedule won't allow him to join us in Gotham for Christmas." She tutted, and I asked, "Is there anything you can do?"

"I certainly can!" she exclaimed. "I'll have Harry create a portkey or two for him, and I'll ask Fawkes to deliver it in time. There's no reason they can't be together for Christmas!"

"Um, Professor? Could you not mention Professor Harry or me?" I asked. "Arthur doesn't like Professor Harry, and he'd probably reject them if he knew they came from him."

"Oh. I'll have Albus create them, then. He does get along with the Headmaster, I hope?" I nodded, and she smiled at me, and said, "Thank you for letting me know, dear. With your caring heart, you should have been in Hufflepuff!"

------------------------  
_**Tuesday, December 22, 1998:  
Hogwarts, History of Magic classroom  
**_------------------------

Professor Binns floated through the blackboard, and said in a monotone, "Welcome back to History. To continue with recent Goblin events, in early July, 1505, Queen Alferta the Flatulent..." Several heads went 'thunk' and snores were heard.

Arthur passed me a note, '_You SURE I have a ride back?_'  
I rolled my eyes, and replied, '_Of course! My dad said so, didn't he? It may be a couple days early because of the network installation, but that's ok, isn't it?'_ I paused, then added, '_You can help us pull cable or something._'  
'_Ha. Ha,_' he replied. '_I don't mind a bit of honest work if I can see the infamous Slytherin common room_ (lined out) _torture chamber!_'  
'_Ha. Ha,_' I replied. '_You can see plenty of it from our rack!_'

Binns droned on, "...taxation on the brewers of firewhiskey was..."

------------------------

"Settle down, settle down. Pass your homework forward." Professor Snape appeared, robes billowing as the door slammed. He walked along the row, collecting the assignments, and dumping them on his desk. "Today, we will be conducting a quiz regarding useful personal potions." He glowered at us, and added, "If you dunderheads recall anything of what I have laboured to teach you, you will perform adequately. If not..." he glared at the Gryffs, "... you will fail." He waved his wand at the board, and it filled with his cramped handwriting. "You have one hour. Begin."

The Professor turned the hourglass, and said, "Quills down, pass your answers forward." I did so, and he waved his wand, muttering a charm. The stack of parchment blurred for a bit, and he added, "Never let it be said I am unwilling to experiment. Indeed, that takes up a great proportion of my time. This charm aligns your handwriting, and hides the name on each sheet. Each of you will now relieve the burden of _my_ deciphering your scribbles, and will be grading your classmates. You will not know whose paper you are grading, it may even be your own." He glowered, then said, "I will, of course, be reviewing and... summarizing your answers." He picked up the stack, and passed them back, adding, "You will find a fresh quill and a bottle of red ink in your desks. The first question was: 'List the five qualities of a bezoar.' The first quality is..."

------------------------

I groaned as I sat down at the Slytherin table for dinner. Terry looked over at me, and asked, "Bad day?"

"Pop quiz in Potions," I admitted. "My brain hurts."

"Look at it this way, maybe you can hex him tonight at the DA meeting," Terry suggested. "You were lucky, he usually assigns homework just before Christmas every year. I'll take a quiz over homework every time."

"Could be worse," Karen said. "He expects every Slytherin to get _at least_ an 'Acceptable' in Potions and Herbology for their OWLs. If you think first and third years are hard, wait until fifth!"

"Seventh year NEWTS," Ian said, shaking his head. "You start studying for it in January of your sixth year."

"Teaching," Professor Harry said as he walked by. "If nothing else, being able to read a printout instead of deciphering handwriting will make this computer installation worthwhile." Terry budged over, and he took a seat. "My goal this year is to have every one of my OWL and NEWT students get an 'Acceptable' in Defense." He took a bite from an apple, then swallowed and said, "None of _my_ students are going to be helpless if they have to fight. That's one reason you can hex the staff at the DA. It sharpens you by taking on someone more powerful, it's stress relief on both sides, and I can remember wanting to hex a professor or two."

"Or a student?" Karen asked with a grin.

Professor Harry returned the grin, and echoed, "Or a student. I'm proud of you Slythies, by the way. Your entire house comes to the DA, well, except for Professor Trelawney, and you don't have to."

"Who else doesn't come, Professor?"

"One Gryff, one 'Puff, and Mr. Filch doesn't," he sighed. "It's a club, it's supposed to be fun, not a class, so I can't make them." He shrugged, then said, "I was thinking of trying another boggart as a Dementor tonight, but I don't want to ruin everyone's Christmas by frightening them. What do you think?"

"I vote for the Dementor, it can't be any worse than Gotham after dark, " I said.

"Mattie, what is your hometown like?" Terry asked with a worried look.

I shrugged, and asked, "What can I say? Gotham's got the highest crime rate in North America, the most martial arts dojos in the world outside Tokyo, and the highest rate of firearm possession." I bit a carrot, then smiled, and added, "It's also got the finest research labs in the country, one of the top ten universities in North America, and the second-busiest deepwater port. It's got the finest restaurants, and the most cutting-edge fashion. It's a city where you can dance on the razor's edge in the moonlight."

I finished the carrot, then added, wistfully, "It's hell on earth, and heaven. It's home."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, December 23, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin House, First year girl's dorm  
_**------------------------

"Cindy?"

With a 'pop', the house-elf materialized, and asked, "Yes, Mistress Wayne? What can Cindy do for Mistress?"

"Did you get all the presents taken care of?"

The elf vigorously nodded her head. "Yes, Mistress Wayne! Cindy does what she is told! Cindy is a _good_ house-elf!"

"Yes, you are. Just a minute, please." I rooted around in my trunk, and came up with a small wrapped gift. "This is for you, Cindy. Have a Merry Christmas."

The elf staggered back in shock. "Mistress, Cindy cannot accept this from Mistress! Cindy is a _good_ house-elf! Cindy..."

"...Cindy will accept the present from Mistress Wayne, or Cindy will make Mistress Wayne unhappy," I interrupted. The suggestions from Professor Harry and Hagrid had been invaluable. "Mistress Wayne hopes that her present will make Cindy the house-elf very happy. Now, I need to get my trunk upstairs to the Common Room."

"Mistress will do no such thing! Trunks is the work of house-elves! Cindy will take care of Mistress' trunk!" With a snap of her fingers, both the trunk and Cindy vanished. I shook my head, then closed the door after me.

"Ah, Miss Wayne. Before you depart, I wish to inspect your trunk." I glanced at Professor Snape, then nodded and unlocked it for him. He poked the contents with his wand, then dropped a small parcel in, casting a few charms. He stepped back, and extracted a jewel on a small chain from a pocket. He gave it to me, saying "I have taken the liberty of arranging for a temporary permit for you with the American Ministry. Place this around your neck and do not remove it for any reason until you see me again." I looked at him, and he added, "While I am confident of your ability to protect yourself from Muggles, this will allow you to perform magic legally if necessary. You are one of my students, and I would be remiss if I did not consider the possibility. If you do need to perform magic, I trust you remember the memory charms I have taught you?"

"Yes sir. Thank you," I said, tucking the jewel under my shirt.

He gave me a thin smile, adding, "My pleasure. The parcel is a tracking device, and will allow your family to find you if necessary. Place your wand and any other magical items in your trunk before you depart your aeroplane in the United States, Miss Wayne. I have placed concealment and confundus charms on it, so nosy Muggle officials will not discern them. Your familiar?"

"Professor Hagrid said he'd take care of her, because of the British Quarantine laws."

"Just so." His mouth twitched, and he nodded, adding, "Have a Happy Christmas, and a safe journey."

"You too, Professor, you too."

------------------------

"Bit strange, being a Wednesday and not being in Charms now," Andrew Kirke said as the Hogwarts Express moved south toward London.

"Or wearing that bloody skirt. I've been freezing the last few months!" Amanda Leeds said, and the other girls nodded with me. She cleared her throat, and asked, "I had a ... request of the lot of you. Do you mind terribly if I join your study group when we return in January? You lot seem to be doing so well."

"I don't know..." one of the Cortez twins said. "You Gryffies are _awfully_ thick sometimes," she said with a grin.

"Bloody Yanks!" Andrew said. "You lot are getting all 'Outstanding' in everything?"

I snorted, and admitted, "Hardly. Transfig is my worst subject."

"Herbology's my worst," Arthur admitted. "Potions is reasonably easy if you follow directions."

I nodded, and the two Gryffs shuddered, Andrew muttering, "Snape's a bloody overgrown bat." Sprink and I glanced at each other, nodded, and I moved next to him. While Sprink distracted him by moving her wand in flashy circles, I touched a pressure point on his neck, then scooted away while Sprink mumbled and shot green sparks at him. I moved away as he slid over toward Amanda, snoring.

"What did you do to him!" Amanda screeched.

"A bit of secret Slytherin magic," Sprink announced loftily. "Don't insult our Head of House again, we have entire libraries of Dark Magic to use!" She ostentatiously stowed her wand, then seated herself; saying, "I agree, Potions is easy enough if you slow down, think and follow the directions."

"Those of you from ... lesser Houses may have trouble with your studies," one of the Cortez sisters sneered. "However, we of Ravenclaw have no such difficulties."

"We are _so_ going to kick your butt on January ninth!" I declared. "That snitch is MINE!"

"Just let the rest of us toy with them a bit first Mattie," Sprink said with an evil cackle. "Like we did with Gryffindor last month. The Ballistic isn't our only new move, just the only one we've decided to reveal."

"Better you than we," Charlie said to the sisters, adding, "Didn't I see a certain Ravenclaw from New York having trouble in Astronomy last week?"

"A lie! Jupiter simply ... moved!" Roshawn (I think) said desperately.

------------------------

I popped through the barrier at Platform 9 3/4, and looked about. The train had pulled in a few minutes early... "Over there, guys!" I called, waving to the young man who stood, holding a small sign that said "Wayne".

"Miss Wayne? I'm Farnsworth from WayneCorp London. Please come with me."

"Just a minute, Mr. Farnsworth," I asked, fingering my wand. "What's the challenge?"

"Um," he fumbled a card out of his pocket, and read, "'Professor Harry is eight feet and hairy.' The reply is?"

"'His eyes are green.' We're cool, guys, he's authentic."

"Good, you're paranoid," Arthur muttered.

I dropped back to walk with him, and whispered, "There were four kidnapping attempts on me last year."

"So the question isn't 'are you paranoid?' The question is 'are you paranoid enough?" Arthur asked with a grin.

------------------------

I went through a similar challenge/response when the van pulled up at the Lear. Arthur's eyes bugged out a bit, and he whispered, "Do you know how much one of these _costs_?"

"Dunno," I said. "Twenty, thirty million?" I called to the cabin attendant, "Excuse me, I'd like the trunks in the cabin, please."

"Yes, ma'am," she replied. I waved my friends aboard.

------------------------

The attendant made sure we were buckled in, and we took off. With a 'ding', the seatbelt light went off, and she came back in the main cabin, telling us, "My name is Susan O'Reilly, and if there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask." She lowered her voice, and added, "I'm also a graduate from the Salem Institute, so I know what a wand does. The flight crew will not go aft of the forward head except in an emergency, so you can talk freely." She stood up, and said in a louder voice, "We'll be cruising at 43,000 feet, flight time to Gotham is eight hours ten minutes, which includes a layover for fuel in Reykjavik, Iceland. Arrival in Gotham is estimated at 7:45 p.m. local time. The home office in Gotham has been notified of our departure from Gatwick. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

"Do you want to call home?" I asked Arthur and the twins. The twins nodded, and I leaned over to Arthur, and whispered, "Go ahead, I don't mind. Call them, let them know you're ok."

He glanced up from the textbook he'd just taken out, and replied, "Thanks, but I can wait."

------------------------

During the second leg of the flight, the intercom came on, and I looked up as the pilot said, "If you look out the port side, you'll see Superman flying about fifty feet away." Even Susan scrambled to look as Uncle Clark waved at us, a smile on his face. I whispered, "Thanks, Uncle Clark." He waved again, gave us a thumbs-up, then dove out of sight.

I looked at Arthur, and said, "You're SURE you don't want to call home?"

He snorted, "And miss the look on my sister's face when I tell her I saw Superman?"

------------------------

With a thump and a screech, we touched down. The intercom came on again, and the pilot said, "Welcome to Gotham City. The temperature is thirty-nine degrees with a southern wind, and once we finish taxiing, we'll be waiting on Customs clearance. Thank you for flying with us, and have a Merry Christmas."

I looked at my friends, and said, "Any magical stuff like your wand, throw them in my trunk. Professor Snape put charms on it to hide them from Muggles." I looked at Susan, and said, "You too."

"I'm good, thanks anyway," she said.

------------------------

"Aunt Sheila!" I called, and she moved into a hug. "Thanks for coming! How is everyone?"

"Everyone's fine, do you guys want anything to eat? We're picking up Lois and Clark in about half an hour, so we've got some time."

I glanced at my friends, then said, "I need to get something out of my trunk, so maybe hot chocolate would be good. Guys, I'd like you to meet one of my godparents, Sheila Hawking. Aunt Sheila, these are the Cortez twins from New York, Roshawn and Shaundra, and Arthur Morton from Columbus." I lowered my voice, and added, "She knows about the school."

"Well, there's a coffee shop down where the domestic flights are. Let's pick up your luggage, and get a drink while we wait. Let's keep together, now," Aunt Sheila said.

------------------------

"Aunt Lois! Uncle Clark!" They crouched down for a hug, and I started the introductions again. "Everyone, these are two more of my godparents, Lois Lane and Clark Kent of Metropolis. You know Aunt Sheila, of course, and this is Arthur Morton of Columbus, and Roshawn and Shaundra Cortez of New York." I looked at Sheila, and asked, "Where's Uncle Doc?"

"He's at the hospital visiting some old friends, he'll be out at the Manor later," she told me. "Your Mom is at the Manor with Dick and Barbara, Bruce was finishing up something at work, he'll meet us at the Manor."

"What about our folks?"

Uncle Clark loaded our luggage and trunks onto a cart as Sheila replied, "The Cortez family arrived a couple hours ago by car, they're at the Manor. Want to call them?" They nodded, and she pulled a cell phone out of her purse, speed dialing the Manor and passing it over. She continued, "Mrs. Morton arrived with some of your brothers and sisters a while ago. I understand there's another arrangement with your father?" Arthur nodded, and Sheila added, "Girls, let Arthur talk to his family when you finish."

The elevator dinged, and we got off into the parking garage. Sheila and I immediately went into 'Bat-mode', Clark and Lois fell back, Lois telling Arthur, "Push the cart, please, while the girls flank. We need to keep an eye out."

He moved to do so, saying, "This is a parking garage!"

"In Gotham," Sheila replied. There was a scream, and she asked, "Clark?"

"Mugging. Be right back." I dropped back to tail position, hand on my wand as he vanished. I heard gunshots, but continued to scan as Arthur pushed the cart, looking nervous.

"Chick, chick, chick," I heard, and spun, blocking the grab, then using a thrust kick to knock her into a concrete pillar, where she collapsed. Two others moved to flank me, and I used tae-kwon-do to take them both out. I moved to rescue the Cortez twins, who were enthusiastically swinging away at their attackers without much luck, but Lois and Sheila had already covered them. I spun and kicked a ragged blonde who was trying and failing to grab Arthur, who was swinging at her in self-defense. I flipped her up to land with the trash, then straightened up, asking, "Everyone ok?"

"Yeah. Who are they, a gang?" Arthur asked, looking at the hundred or so yards we'd traveled from the elevator lobby.

"Death Chix. New gang," Sheila said. "I counted fifteen here, some might be Clark's muggers."

"I'm rusty, I want a proper workout when we get back to the Manor," I complained. "Oh, by the way, welcome to Gotham City, everyone."

------------------------

We somehow managed to cram the six of us, and the luggage into the black van. We turned, and Uncle Clark waved at us as we turned a corner. Climbing on board, he buckled up, turned, and asked in all sincerity, "Isn't this fun?"

------------------------

Aunt Sheila took the scenic route as my city gleamed in the early evening, lights sparkling on the Gotham River. The Cortez twins gasped as they saw the Signal against the clouds. All too soon, we were at the Manor, the golden Wayne crest on the iron gates giving me a sense of peace. I was home.

------------------------

Arthur was wide-eyed at Dad's collection of cars, all with the 'BW' prefix on the license tags. I sighed in relief as we parked on the end of a row, giving us plenty of room to unpack the van. I saw two foreign cars nearby, a station wagon with New York plates and a scarlet and gray van with Ohio plates. He suddenly clawed at the door, calling "Mom!"

"Arthur!" I could see a group hug forming as the Cortez sisters ran to join their parents. Aunt Lois and Uncle Clark smiled as they watched, while Dick came over to twirl me into a hug, asking, "How ya doin', little sis?"

"Great, you big doofus. Now let me breathe!" giving him a gentle chop to the ribs. Babs approached with Mom, still somewhat fragile, but walking without a cane. I gave them a hug, and asked quietly, "Where's Dad?"

"You saw the Signal?" I nodded, and Mom said, "The new Commissioner's an idiot. He panicked when he heard some of the Rogues weren't in Arkham."

"What happened to the old one? The one that took over from Uncle Jim?"

"In Boss Marone's pocket. There was a big scandal a month ago, his trial's in February. Don't worry about it, Dad just had to chew out the Commissioner, he's on his way in," Mom said. "Let's get this crowd in and settled."

"We've got some luggage carts over here," Dick called, and I sorted out my trunk from the others, lifting it without problems. With some people's expression, I asked, "Jeez. Didn't anyone ELSE put a featherweight charm on their trunk before they left school?"

"Uh... Mattie," Arthur said quietly. "They warned us to keep a low profile before we left. Therefore... no magic. Besides, my little brother and sister don't know I'm a wizard."

------------------------

I knocked on the twin's door, and when they opened it, asked, "I'm giving Arthur a quick tour of the Manor. Want to come? There's heavy snow forecast tonight, so you can sleep in tomorrow if you want."

------------------------

I had picked up some other relatives for the tour, so I opened the doors, and said, "This is the gym. Women's showers through there, men's through there." I gestured out through a door, and added, "There's an eight kilometer heated track around the estate. I haven't had a chance to really work out at school, so if anyone wants to join me tomorrow morning, I'd suggest an extra layer. The gym gets chilly during the winter because of the high windows."

"My brother's going to love this," Arthur said.

"Where is he?"

"Probably with his girlfriend, he's coming with Dad," one of Arthur's sisters said. She extracted a hand, "I don't think we've had a chance to meet. I'm Becky, and this is Carson." She bounced the infant on her hip, and added, "We really appreciate your help with Arthur and all."

I waved this off, saying, "Our pleasure. You didn't have any trouble finding the Manor?"

"No, although when I told some of my co-workers where I was going for Christmas, they had a few raised eyebrows." She slapped her forehead, "Oh, I forgot the camera!"

"I got mine, Becky," Arthur's sister Teela said, taking Carson.

I ruffled the baby's downy hair, turned, and called, "Everyone ready to move on?" My cordless phone rang, and I said, "Excuse me. This is Mattie Wayne."

"Um, yes, this is Bill Morton. Is one of my family there?"

"Yes, Mr. Morton. Just a moment, please." I handed it to Becky, who said, "Hi, Dad!" She listened for a minute, then handed it to Arthur, saying, "They're ready and the little kids are all playing outside, so we're clear here."

"Hi, Dad!" He listened, then said, "Just like Professor Dumbledore's instructions. Each of you has one hand on your bag, the other hand on the portkey, and say my full name." There was a flash, and two people arrived, stumbling slightly on the hardwood floor.

A klaxon went off, and the computer said, "Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert." I ran to the security panel, and typed in my code to reset it. I smiled at them, and said, "Sorry about that. It wasn't designed with portkeys in mind." I extended my hand, saying, "I'm Mattie Wayne. Welcome to Gotham City."

------------------------  
**_Thursday, December 24, 1998:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor  
_**------------------------

"It's six a.m., and a good, snowy Christmas Eve day to all of you from Gotham's oldies station, WGHO. I'm Shawna Foxx, getting you up, up, up and out of your cozy den on this last chance shopping day! So get your paw off that snooze button and pour yourself a cup of wake-up! I'll be here with you till ten, but now we've got Alex with the early morning traffic report." I yawned, sat up, and stretched, then padded into the bathroom.

I knocked on the Morton boys' door, and called, "Henry? It's Mattie. You said you were interested in a workout this morning?"

"Come in!" I heard, and saw Arthur and Little Bill still in bed, while his brother was doing pushups on the floor. Arthur groaned, and said from under his pillow, "It's too early, and why am I rooming with him?"

"That's what your folks told my parents, and it's six fifteen. I get up at three at school so I can exercise and study in the common room. Come on, we're burning daylight." Henry snickered and stole Arthur's pillow, who lunged for it.

"Three? That explains so much." He took another glance, and added, "Oh, god. She wears Slytherin colors at home, too." Arthur collapsed back on the bed.

"These are white, not silver tights," I observed. "So what if my leotard's green? I'm way out of shape, and I don't have much time to get a decent workout. Henry, you coming?"

"Didn't look like it yesterday," Arthur observed as Henry motioned me out.

"Track or gym first?" I asked as we entered the gym. I called, "Hi, Aunt Sheila! How are you today?"

"In need of a sparring partner," She extended her hand, and said, "Sheila Hawking, godmother to this arrogant little twerp."

"Henry Morton." He shook her hand, then said, "If you two want to spar, I'll just warm up, and then we can hit the track?"

"Sounds like a plan. Give us a shout if you need spotting, all right?" She motioned to me, and said, "Let's see how much you've forgotten."

"Ha!" I tossed my towel over a bar, and bowed to her. "Prepare to get your butt kicked!"

"Age and cunning always beats youth and inexperience!" She returned my bow, and we started to circle, eyeing each other.

------------------------

"Holy Mother..." Henry whispered, and that distracted me long enough to be pinned. I slapped the mat, and Aunt Sheila gave me a hand up. I glared at him, and he raised his hands, saying, "Sorry. Sorry. Jeez, I don't want either one of you mad at me. You two are just..." he shuddered, "frightening, y'know?"

"Naa. I'm out of shape without a proper gym at school," I admitted. I mopped my face, then asked, "Henry, you look in decent shape. Think you can take a little girl like me?"

"I've always enjoyed a challenge," he speculated.

"I'll sweeten it, and let you make the first move," I wheedled.

"There's never a bowl of popcorn around when you need it," Aunt Sheila commented. Henry nodded, and we bowed. He lunged, I jumped and hit him with both feet, using it to spin and flip while he crashed, skidding two or three feet on the mat.

I applauded, while Henry shook his head and got up. "What did you hit me with?" he asked, "A concealed sledgehammer?"

"Just a kick," I said innocently. "Two out of three? You can still have first move."

He looked at me warily, then nodded. Resuming our positions on the mat, we bowed, then circled, watching each other. He feinted, then tried a grab, which I used to pull and gently toss him a few feet away.

Sheila applauded, calling, "That was excellent, Henry! You lasted a good five seconds!"

He groaned, then rolled to all fours, shaking his head. Teela giggled; her sketchpad in hand as she sat on a weight bench. He levered himself up, glowered at his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him. He walked over to Sheila, and said, "I have ... forty bucks that says I can last at least ten seconds against the demonspawn over there."

"Mattie?"

I said, "I'm good for it," as I took my place on the mat. "Glutton for punishment?" I asked as we bowed and started to circle. He smiled, then broke and ran, snatching Teela's sketchpad on the way out the gym's doors.

------------------------

We found Henry in the kitchen, draining a glass of milk. I bowed, and said, "Domo Arigato" to him, adding, "I'll pay you when I get changed."

"Domo what?" he asked, washing the glass and putting it in the rack.

"It's Japanese, means Thank You," Sheila said, pouring some water. "The proper reply is 'Konichiwa', which means 'You're welcome'. You have taught Mattie a lesson, and she's thanking you for it."

"Ah, then 'Konichoo' to you, Mattie. What did I teach you?"

"Expect surprises from even an outclassed opponent," I told him. I grinned, "You know you are just a _wee_ bit outclassed on the tatami mats?"

"It's what I deserve for playing by the wrong set of rules. Even my bruises have bruises," he admitted.

"You need to stretch them out. C'mon, one lap on the track, and then a shower. Did you guys bring swimwear for the hot tub?" Sheila asked. Teela nodded, and Henry shook his head. "We'll find you something."

------------------------

"How long is the track?" he asked, panting a bit. He was hanging tough for a sprinter.

"Eight kilometers," I answered. "Three more to go, and we'll have five miles. At school, I can run around the Quidditch pitch, it's a bit bigger than a football track. Unfortunately, there's no decent gym there."

------------------------

I knocked on the twins' door, and called, "It's eight thirty. You two up yet?"

"Mattie? Come on in," they called. When I entered, I saw one with a towel around her, drying her hair, while the other was dressed. I plopped down in a chair, and they said, "What's the plan for today?"

"Breakfast, first. We've got three sets of mothers trying to outdo each other downstairs." I grinned, and added, "Then later on we thought you might want to go downtown to see the sights, maybe do a little shopping?"

"Ooh, shopping in Gotham? Anything like Manhattan?"

"Don't know, I've only been to Manhattan once," I admitted. "C'mon. There's twenty-three people here, if we wait too long all the food will be gone!"

------------------------

"Ahh. My complements to the chefs," Uncle Doc said. He finished his coffee, then asked, "Can I top off anyone's coffee? Anyone else want anything?" He stood, then motioned Mrs. Morton down, saying, "Since the ladies cooked, it's only fair that we wash up."

Dad and Mr. Cortez rose, and started collecting plates. I finished my milk, and started to stack Becky's dishes on top of mine. She started to get up, and I waved her down, saying, "We've got this. Don't worry about it."

As Elena passed me a dish to put away, she said quietly, "Y'know, when I heard we could spend Christmas in a billionaire's house in Gotham, I thought you would be all, well..."

"Snooty?" I asked. "We haven't been, I hope."

"No, you haven't! You've been really, well, human, y'know? And in Gotham, I thought I'd see all these super-types flying around, especially with the Signal we saw last night..."

I snickered, and looked over at Arthur. "You haven't told her, I guess?"

He glared at me, and said, "I was waiting for the right moment."

"Told me what?"

One of the Cortez sisters said, "Who we saw on the flight over."

"Ooh, Arthur Donald Morton, who did you see?" I caught Uncle Clark's eye, and winked. "Was it... Green Lantern? Wonder Woman?" she guessed.

"Better. Much better," I said. Uncle Clark grinned at me.

"Batman? No, he can't fly," she speculated, and Uncle Clark smirked, and glanced at Dad. "Was it ... Oh, my god, you saw Superman?"

"Bingo," I admitted, and she squealed, "Superman! You saw Superman! Oh my god, oh my god! Do you think we'll see Batman anytime? He's like, here, isn't he? Mattie, do you think we could, like, take a tour? A Bat-tour?"

"Excuse me? A Bat-tour?" I asked flatly.

Uncle Doc said, "Young lady, there are only two ways you see any of the Bat-Clan in this town. You are either IN trouble, or you ARE trouble. Is that understood?"

"But ... this is Gotham! The home of the Bat! I can't go back to boring old Columbus, Ohio and say I never saw the Bat! What about all those places I've heard about, like the ... Flick theater, Robinson Park, and the Iceberg lounge? What about the Joker, and Mr. Freeze?"

"Joker is in Blackgate prison, and you DO NOT want to see him," Dick said. "He once killed everyone with blonde hair on a subway platform during rush hour. If he were out, we would refuse to take you anywhere in this city. As it is, we must ask you to stay with a Gothamite. You don't know this city. We do." He leaned down to look her in the eye, and said, "Do you promise?"

"Elena, _please_ promise. Please?" Arthur said. "You weren't with me yesterday at the airport. You don't know."

"What happened?" Dad asked.

"Death Chix tried to jump us in the parking garage, Dad," I said.

He grunted and scrubbed a pan, and Mr. Morton asked, "Who are the Death Chix?"

"They're a new female gang, high school age, about twenty members," Dick said. "Primary income is drugs and prostitution, but they've lost members to their clients. They're not mean enough to survive in Gotham." He looked at Elena again, and asked, "Promise?" She swallowed and nodded.

------------------------

We spread a pair of city maps out, and discussed where we would go. Tracing it on the map for our guests, we started in Bristol, went south on the Kane Bridge, past Sheldon Park and the Bowery. Elena wanted to see Crime Alley, but she was instantly denied, Dad saying, "It's called that for a _reason_. A photo isn't worth your life, Elena."

Henry asked, "Elena, do you think I'm tough? I'm a football player, so I can kick butt in a fight?" She nodded, and he said, "I thought so too, until I saw two _Gothamites_ spar this morning." He nodded at me, and added, "In a real fight, I wouldn't last ten seconds with Mattie here, not to mention her Aunt. Elena, this is a tough town, take their advice, _please_. Don't do anything stupider than you normally do."

She grumbled, and Henry sighed. "Where after that?"

"What about going through the fashion district, and we can stop and have lunch somewhere in the financial district?" Babs suggested.

"Where's the Iceberg?" Elena asked.

"In Otisberg," Mom tapped the map, "Where we are NOT going, young lady. We'll be down here, on the southern end of the island." She glared at Elena, and said, "IF you're good, we'll go up to the observation deck of Wayne tower. You can see the whole island from there. Safely, and that's as far as we'll go toward your 'Bat-tour'."

"From there, up Mortinson Avenue, past Robinson park, through Gotham University, we'll drive by Arkham Asylum, over the Trigate bridge, through Sommerset and back home," Dick suggested as he traced it on a map.

------------------------

"Elena," I called. She stopped, and I told her, "Fair warning, we are not kidding around. I'm going to be sticking to you like graft on a politician. You can't shake me; you can't lose me. This is MY town. If you go to the loo, I'll be waiting outside the stall. Don't give me reason to go IN the stall with you." She swallowed, and I opened the van door for her.

------------------------

I relaxed a bit when we got to the observation deck. The cold wind meant that there was only one other person up there, a burly man in a long overcoat. He sighed, and turned to go, and I called, "Uncle Harvey?"

"Mattie? Mattie Wayne? Let us take a look at you! You've grown so tall since we saw you last! Where have you been?"

"I've been going to school in England, Uncle Harvey. I'd like you to meet some friends of mine. These are my schoolmates, Roshawn and Shaundra Cortez, and Arthur Morton, and his family. Everyone, this is two of my favorite uncles, Harvey Dent."

"We're very pleased to meet you all," Uncle Harvey said, shaking hands.

Elena blinked, and said, "Excuse me, Mr. Dent. Could I get my picture with you?"

"With ol' Apollo Dent, eh? Sure, why not?" I saw Mr. Morton glance at Dad, who nodded. "Bruce! Selina! Come on, you also! Mattie, do you mind?"

"Not at all, Uncle Harvey. Say 'cheese'!"

"CHEESE!"

------------------------

"Happy?" I asked Elena in the car. "You've got a picture of yourself with Two-Face, which has to be a unique souvenir."

"Yeah." She sighed, and added, "You don't have to worry about me any more."

"Good. Robinson Park is on the right, by the way."

------------------------  
**_Friday, December 25, 1998:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor  
_**------------------------

"It's six a.m., and a very merry white Christmas to all of you from Gotham's oldies station, WGHO. I'm Shawna Foxx, getting you up and out of your cozy den! Go on, get downstairs, you know your kids have already opened half their presents! Get down there and pour yourself some liquid wake up, and for those of us poor sods who have to work, I'll be here with you till ten. For now, we've got Alex with the traffic report." I yawned, sat up, and stretched, then padded into the bathroom.

The kitchen radio was playing 'Jingle Bell Rock' as I got a glass of juice, then wandered into the living room. Uncle Clark was staring into the fire, and I asked, "Quiet night?"

"Fortunately so. Your schoolmates are up, Mattie. Shouldn't you be tearing into presents now?"

"I can wait. I hope you like yours, Uncle Clark."

"I'm sure I will." He stood, then gave me a gentle hug, and said, "Let's get some coffee made. I've already fetched the papers in."

------------------------

"Oh, Mattie, thank you! It's a beautiful oak clock!" Aunt Lois turned it around, and read the inscription:

_Jas. W. Tickes and Sons,  
Clocksmiths since 1758  
London  
_

"Not just any clocksmith, a wizarding clocksmith," I corrected. "Look closely, there are extra hands with faces on them. For instance, the one with Uncle Clark's face should be pointing to 'Traveling', and mine is pointing to 'Home'." I grinned, and said, "Anyone can see the time, but only you can see the extra hands. I thought you might want to have it at the Planet, as there's a 'Mortal Danger' position."

"And a watch!" She looked at me, and asked, "Same thing?" I nodded.

------------------------

I knocked on the Morton boy's door, and called, "You guys ready to leave?"

"Mattie? C'mon in. Leave for where?" Henry asked as he opened the door.

"Didn't your folks tell you?" They looked blank, so I explained, "Every year, instead of a big feast here, we go down to St. Andrew's and help Father Tim serve Christmas dinner. If you've got any spare clothes with you, bring them along. I've got extra hats, scarves and gloves from the Quidditch teams at school to give to the homeless."

They looked at each other, and then Henry said, "Sorry, Mattie, we slipped through the cracks. This is the first I've heard of it. What do we wear?"

"Not church stuff," I said, twirling. "See, jeans, boots, semi-nice shirt and jacket. If you're worried about being attacked, don't. The Rogues don't attack the churches; Joker's the last one that did. This is the 'Christmas truce', if you will. There's a brief church service, and then we all eat."

------------------------

We loaded four enormous cooked turkeys, gallons of potatoes, gravy, dressing, cranberries, and all the various fixings in the vans. Uncle Harvey had said they'd meet us there, they promised a Vietnamese dish, Mrs. Morton contributed a Dam Jou Cake with sour cream, chocolate chips and lots of cinnamon. Aunt Lois swore she gained ten pounds by looking at it. Mrs. Cortez contributed a Cuban rum cake that smelled heavenly.

When we got there, a truck from Dad's favorite Italian restaurant was just leaving. He conversed with the maitre'd, and they shook hands while we unloaded. Father Tim came out with a couple helpers; I waved, and called, "Hi, Uncle Eddie!"

"Mattie! You've gotten so much bigger! Let me take a look at you! Harvey tells me you're going to school in England?"

"Yes, a private boarding school. I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Elena Morton. She's the sister of a classmate of mine. Elena, this is Mr. Edward Nigma."

"Pleased, sir." Uncle Eddie shook her hand, then took something foil-wrapped inside, and she whispered, "Is that who I think it is?"

"It's him," I whispered. "The red and green question marks on his tie sort of give it away. Just be cool about it."

------------------------

"... Our Father, Amen." I crossed myself, then leaned over and whispered, "C'mon. We leave now to help set up downstairs."

I hung up my jacket, washed my hands, and Mrs. Evans pointed us to the dining hall, where she needed help getting the tables set. The grown-ups were getting the steam tables set up, the bigger kids were helping in the kitchen. We heard the organ upstairs, and Mrs. Evans called, "Fifteen minutes!"

------------------------

"More coffee?" I heard, and looked up to see Aunt Harley top off a homeless guy's cup. I grinned, then looked at the four kids. I tutted, and said, "It looks like you need some hats. Here we go, direct from Scotland, the finest wool." I placed a cap from each of the four Hogwarts houses on their heads, and then winked, whispering, "They're magic hats, woven by elves!" I pulled two faculty scarves out, and wrapped the parents up. "I hope you feel warmer already!" I said with a smile, then turned to a fellow in an old navy peacoat. "Gloves, sir?"

------------------------

"Oh, my. That was a truly satisfying Christmas," Aunt Lois said. "Even though I didn't eat much, what I had was plenty."

"Yes, I wonder if we can talk Perry into sponsoring something like that in Metropolis," Uncle Clark mused.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, December 26, 1998:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor  
_**------------------------

"It's six a.m. on Saturday morning at Gotham's hit oldies station, WGHO. I'm Patti King, your hostess with the mostest, here with you till noon. It's the day after Christmas, and we all know what that means - shopping!" Yawning, I hit the snooze button and sat up. Stretching, I shivered then padded into the bathroom.

"Morning," Uncle Clark said. "I picked up the papers, I wanted to see how Lois' article came out." I sipped my juice, and he added, "She emailed one last night. Ah, here we are."

Gotham City - December 25th  
Lois Lane - Daily Planet (AP/UPI)

Either Saturday, or Monday, people will gather around the office coffeepot, and swap Christmas stories. I thought I'd share mine with you.  
  
My husband Clark and I were invited to spend the holidays with friends in Gotham. This was special, as our goddaughter was arriving home with friends. She's been attending boarding school in England, and this was a nice way for families to meet from Ohio and New York. Our flights arrived on Wednesday, which gave everyone a day of rest.  
  
Gotham is a unique town. Not as large as New York or Metropolis, the almost two million people have a town with dojos on every block. It's a town where junior high kids are second-degree black belts in multiple disciplines. It's a town where the Nobel laureates at STAR Labs and Gotham University carry sawed-off shotguns to make it to the parking lot. It's a town where the ultra-chic model strutting down the runway has a stiletto in her corset and a 9mm strapped to her thigh under her dress.  
  
Gotham's finest are doing their best, but geography itself is working against them. Gotham is an island, ringed by docks where not only legitimate freight arrives, but drugs, weapons, and other cargo for the Mob, the Yakusa and the Tongs. The gangs and random hoodlums roam the streets like wolves. For this reason, spending for both personal security and police is the highest in North America.  
  
It's a very tough town, but the natives, who have developed a sardonic greeting, 'Welcome to Gotham City', love it. I've been here before, but I was still glad to have the presence of both Clark and two native Gothamites, one my goddaughter, the other my opposite godparent, a local attorney. We hadn't gotten a hundred yards into the airport-parking garage before a local gang attacked us. Clark had left to render aid to someone not as fortunate who was being mugged, while the balance of the gang, fifteen teenagers, thought they'd have easy pickings with us.  
  
They were wrong. My co-godparent (who doesn't want her name used) accounted for nine of them, while my goddaughter accounted for another four. Meanwhile, the other four of us (two New Yorkers, the student from Ohio and myself) struggled to defend ourselves and subdue two. Not particularly outstanding for this particular middle-aged journalist, especially when the Gothamites didn't even break a sweat, but that's honest reporting for you. The gang members were left in the trash, bruised, broken and bleeding, with a derisive comment of 'No talent Goth wanna-bees', and we proceeded to reunite with family.  
  
Given the character of Gotham City, you would think Christmas Day would dawn with an orgy of violence, and you'd be wrong. The 'Christmas Truce' tradition took hold, where we spent the evening at a local church, serving a Christmas feast. It's strange to meet some of Gotham's notorious Rogues, to sit and talk with them, and find out they take cream, no sugar, thanks, in their coffee. The night was surprisingly silent, broken only by church bells and hymns.  
  
What's next? We head back to Metropolis, the Rogues return to whatever they do, the Bat-clan and the police return to fighting crime and corruption wherever they occur.  
  
Life gets back to normal.


	11. Classes, Week Eighteen, First Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**11 - Classes, Week Eighteen, First Year  
**------------------------  
_**Sunday, December 27, 1998:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor  
**_------------------------

"Sure we can't loan you a van?" Dad asked. "We can pick it up next time we're in Columbus, it's not a bother."

"No, no, that's..." Mr. Morton said, but Mrs. Morton interrupted her husband, saying, "It wouldn't be an imposition?"

"Look at this garage!" Mom snorted. "Please, take it, it's not a problem. He doesn't drive three quarters of them, I don't know why he spent the money." She glanced at Dad, then whispered, "He gets, well, you know, and he buys another car. At least it's not yachts," she said with a roll of her eyes. "We'll give you a _really_ good price on it if you're interested. You've got my email address?" Mrs. Morton nodded, and Mom continued, "Talk it over, and let us know if you're interested."

"If you're sure..." Mom ducked inside, grabbed a set of keys, then said, "Number 30 only has a few thousand miles on it. If you pull over that way, you can fill the tank on us." She clasped the keys in Mrs. Morton's hand, and said, "Talk it over, and let us know."

Arthur wandered over to where I sat on the garage steps, observing, and joined me, saying quietly, "Y'know, Mattie, money can't buy everything. Not everything's for sale."

"I know," I snorted. "Dad gets, well, in a mood sometimes, and has to buy something. Mom and I are trying to break him of the habit. I mean, there's like sixty cars in here, and he usually drives two or three. Mom drives that beat up station wagon on the end, there." I shrugged, and said, "What am I gonna do?"

Henry was admiring Sheila's black Mercedes convertible with the GCLAW tags. Sheila asked, "Thought about what you want to do after high school? College, maybe the service?"

"I've still got a year and a half, but yeah, I'm going to have to get the grants and student loans, and with working and Mom's employee discount, I think I can afford Ohio State," he admitted. "I've been thinking about the Air Force, with Wright-Patterson so close, you know."

"Air Force is a fine service, Henry," she advised. "How's your vision? Do you want to fly? What do you want to major in?"

"Well, it's not very macho, y'know, but I was thinking about vet school. I'm good at math, do trig and calculus in my head," he admitted. "The only way I can see anything like med school is to have the service pay for it."

"A suggestion for you, then, Henry. You can look into the Army's veterinary program." She grinned, and said, "Don't let my not recommending the Corps get around, though."

"Corps? You're a Marine?" She nodded, adding "Marine Reserves. I handle criminal law in the Advocate's office." She paused, then asked, "If you want, I know a fellow in the local Army office, or you can cross-train by joining the Corps, and training at the Army's veterinary school." She fished a business card out of the armrest, and said, "Talk it over with your family, let me know."

The Cortez family was crying and talking in rapid Spanish. Dick and Barbara wandered over and joined us on the steps. Dick ruffled my hair, saying, "This was a really nice thing to do, Mattie."

"Hey, you'll ruin my rep as an evil, mean hard-ass at school!" I complained.

Babs snorted, saying, "You blew that when you snatched that guy out of midair, kiddo."

Arthur chuckled, then said, "Hey, can you two cover for us for a minute? I've got something I want to give Mattie." Dick looked at Babs, then motioned with his head.

Arthur grabbed my hand, and upstairs asked, "Could you get that present from me? The one that said 'WAIT' on it?

I nodded, and fetched it, and sat on the staircase next to him. Arthur said, "I wanted to wait until the family was gone. Merry Christmas, Mattie. Go ahead and open it." I sliced open the paper, and inside the box, found a small crystal in the shape of a rainbow. Flashes of color danced across its surface as I held it to the light.  
  
"Where did you get this?" I asked.  
  
"Nowhere," Arthur said. "I _made_ it, and four more just like it. It'll absorb an '_arcus_' spell, but it only works once."  
  
I looked at Arthur and said; "Charms is your worst subject after Herbology."  
  
"I've been studying with Professor Flitwick. He gave me some pointers and the one we tested worked perfectly. I made them for you, Sprink, Roshawn and Shaundra."  
  
"Thank you." I kicked at the carpet, and said, "My present seems so... well, wussy, now. Like I just threw money at the problem." I looked at him, and said, "Sorry."  
  
"The fountain pen? Nah, I hate the damn quills. Thanks." He was quiet for a minute, then said, "Look, there's a reason behind that, you know. Remember that 'arcus' thing in DADA?" I nodded, and he continued, "I was so damn proud of myself. The only person in class who even tried to score two hundred points off Professor Potter and I pulled it off. Then he asked me what use it was in a fight."  
  
"Well, he is teaching DADA. Even if Professor Harry didn't specifically state the spell had to have a defensive use, it wasn't unreasonable of him to ask if there was one."  
  
"I know. But in class, I answered 'cast it in someone's eyes' and he gave me another fifty points. Yeah, Hufflepuff! The common room just freaked, y'know, the 'loser house' actually has a shot of winning the house cup because of me. Then he suggested that everyone write it down and I'm thinking 'Damn I'm good!' and patting myself on the back, y'know?"  
  
I chuckled and said, "Severe attack of ego? Not that I blame you."  
  
"Yeah. But it all turned to ashes when he said 'Usage: Temporary blinding of an opponent.' Poof. There goes my good mood."  
  
"Why? It's a temporary spell. You're not blinding someone permanently, you know."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Arthur said. "But, y'see, my intention was to get two hundred points and make something nice that... people might like. Like ... one of those sparkly window ornaments. But because of what Professor Potter said, my _intent_ went right out the window."  
  
I sighed, "Arthur, maybe it's me, but you can use just about anything as a weapon, and as far as intentions, maybe whoever invented the AK intended to use it for pest control. Are you blaming Professor Harry for that? I mean, his job is to teach us to fight with magic. Once you come up with something, you can't control how other people use it."

"You're right, I can't. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it. But at least the next time someone tries to blind you with _my spell_, it won't work." He twitched his wrist and his wand popped into his hand. I grabbed his hand, and asked, "Did Professor Sprout get you a temporary permit? Because you know we're not supposed to do magic outside school." 

He glanced at me, and said, "I know. I've got an itch." He poked at his back, and I scratched it with my nails. He put it away, asking, "Thanks. Did Professor Snape get you one?" I nodded, and he snorted, "Figures. Something else for the loser house, Hufflepuff."

I snorted. "Trade ya for Slytherin." He raised his eyebrow, and I continued, "You know the Snake's Den has a Dark reputation?" He nodded, and I added, "The reputation is that we're constantly scheming and plotting, we're evil incarnate, we'll hex or AK someone if they look at us wrong?" He nodded again, and I snorted. "We are SO tired of that, but what can we do? First we had Grindelwald, a Slytherin Dark wizard that Dumbledore took out in 1945, and then we have Voldie and his merry band, who were also mostly Slytherin." I sighed, "It's like being related to Hitler and Pol Pot. You can be a white wizard, firmly on the side of Dumbledore, but if you're wearing Slytherin colors and go into a Diagon Alley shop, you still get looked at funny."

"That sucks." He was quiet for a minute, then said, "That's why you guys are into all the clubs and stuff, like the DA?"

"Partially. It helps people to know we're not as Dark as our reputation paints us, but the real motive for Slytherin, before it was corrupted by the Dark, was simply to be the best. That's it. With the DA, we can practice and improve ourselves. Nothing wrong with that, is there?" I sighed, then said, "Hey, thanks for the gift, and for letting me cry on your shoulder."

"No problem. Thanks for letting me return the favor."

"Sure. Can I ask you one thing, though?" He looked at me, and I said, "Hear me out, ok? You know that Professor Harry was just a regular guy like us six months ago? Then Professor Dumbledore asked him to teach DADA, and he doesn't have any formal teacher's training?" He blinked, and I added, "I know about the DA, but that's a _club_, not formal classes. In his shoes, I know I'd be making plenty of mistakes." I held out one foot, and said, "Hey, in my own shoes, I already am! But all I'm saying is, think about how you might do in his position, ok? Just ... think about it, ok?"

"Sure. Two questions, though. Why would Dumbledore offer him the job, and why would he take it?"

"Who knows? From what Ian and some of the other seventh-years said, DADA has the reputation of a jinxed position. Professor Lupin had the job in their second year, and then in their fifth and sixth."

"So why didn't he continue?"

"He's a werewolf, but rumor was Dumbledore had to reappoint him despite the political opposition because nobody else wanted it. He's a good teacher, from what I hear." I snorted, and said, "I'd rather have a werewolf than Binns."

"Yeah," Arthur was silent, then said, "Why do you think Professor Potter took the job?"

"Dunno, but he's a Gryff, he has to help someone. Maybe he thought 'Hey, teaching won't be any different than the DA,' and found out differently. I'll bet he's been getting some coaching in the staffroom. Notice how he hasn't offered two hundred points for anything lately?"

"Yeah. Five or ten, like the others." He snorted, then said, "I never claimed to be a teacher, though."

------------------------

I had just gotten settled for studying in front of the fire with Arthur and the twins. Uncle Doc appeared in the living room door, calling, "Girls, can you come with me for a minute? Your parents asked me to go over something with you."

Arthur looked up, asking, "Do you need me, sir?"

"I'll be going over this with you later son," he replied. "Just the girls for now."

Arthur shrugged, and I looked at the twins, who looked as mystified as I was. I followed Uncle Doc to the first floor medical bay, where he motioned us to take a seat on the examining table. He smiled at us, and said, "Ladies, I'm a retired obstetrician and gynecologist, and your parents have asked me to give you this little talk." He yanked a green cloth off something, and indicated a plastic model. "You're maturing, and this is what your bodies will be like."

------------------------

I sat back on the carpet, and stared into the flames in the fireplace. The twins were in a similar state, and Arthur got up, and waved his hand in front of my face. "Mattie? Shaundra? Roshawn? Hello? Come on guys, you're scaring me. Hello?"

"They've just taken in some information that I'm going to give to you Arthur," Uncle Doc said. "Would you come with me please?"

------------------------  
_**Wednesday, December 30, 1998:  
Scotland, Inverness International Airport  
**_------------------------

I smiled at the Queen's Customs fellow, who asked, "Anything to declare, love?"

"Just my school trunk, sir," I said. "I took it home for the holidays, and I wish I hadn't. It was too bulky."

"They can be," he agreed. "Pop it up here, would you?" I wrestled it up from the cart onto the low counter, and opened it for him. Even though I could see my silver wand and textbooks, apparently he couldn't. He stamped my passport, with a "Good luck in school, love!" and helped me get the trunk back on the cart with a smile. I tugged on the cart, and joined the others, who were waiting for me.

"One stop to make first, gang," Babs said. She checked her notes, then drove the van around to the airport's cargo area. "We need to pick up some stuff for the network. Grab some carts, will you?"

------------------------

We pulled up behind another car that was unloading. Harry Spencer waved, and moved over, saying, "Afternoon! How was everyone's Christmas?"

"Just fine, Mr. ... Spencer, isn't it?" Babs replied. He nodded, and moved to help pull some long steel racks from the back of the van. Harry grinned, and mentioned, "Brought my laptop, thought it might be useful."

"It will, thank you. Once we get inside, we can find out how far along everything is."

"Ah, Mrs. Grayson! How wonderful to see you again!" Professor Dumbledore called. He was accompanied by a swarm of house elves, which immediately started to levitate trunks and packages. "Why don't you rest today, as tomorrow will be soon enough to resume work." He took her hand and tucked it in his elbow, adding, "Come now, the elves have prepared another splendid feast for dinner. Won't you join us?"

------------------------  
_**Thursday, December 31, 1998:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Common table  
**_------------------------

I moved over to the single, large table when Professor Flitwick waved to me. I smiled, and asked as I sat next to him, "How was your Christmas, professor?"

"Most excellent, Miss Wayne, and yours?" he squeaked.

I smiled; the professor seemed to be on a perpetual sugar high. "Excellent, sir, but I missed all of you." I motioned at the single round table, and asked, "Is this normal?"

"For when only a few of us are here, it makes much more sense than to have only a few people at each House table," he nodded. "Besides, this allows people from different houses to eat together."

I nodded, and turned when Babs tapped her goblet. "May I have everyone's attention for a moment? Thank you." She smiled, and said, "The Headmaster informs me that the elves have run the cabling to the different locations. While we had originally planned to have just the computer people here, if you're interested in helping out, I won't object." She smiled at the twins, Arthur and Ginny (who had arrived with Professor Harry), and continued, "It won't be very glamorous work, but I would appreciate it, especially since we're ahead of schedule."

"Capital idea, I think! Minerva, Severus? It should be most interesting!" Professor Dumbledore said. "When can we start, Mrs. Grayson?"

"Please, call me Babs," she grinned. "I think that since both Mattie and Mr. Spencer have laptops, they walk about and test connections in the dorms. However, first we need to get the back end installed and tested. The foundation of the structure, so to speak." People nodded, and she continued, "For today, after breakfast," she gestured at the table, "we get that put together, and the equipment installed in each House."

The headmaster smiled, and said, "Since Pomona owled me with the news she will be late, I will take care of Hufflepuff house."

"Is there a problem, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"No, no. Her granddaughter went into labor prematurely; although the last I heard from the maternity ward at St. Mungo's, she was fine. Severus, you're running a book on the child's birth, I believe?" Professor Snape nodded, and the headmaster said, "I will wager ten galleons on..." he tapped his chin in thought, then said, "female, two and a half pounds, and ... fourteen inches."

"Done." Professor Snape snapped his notebook shut, and drained his teacup. "I shall be in my office if I am needed. Good day." He nodded to the table, and stalked off, black robes swirling.

------------------------

When I walked into the fourth floor computer room, the twins were screwing things together while Ginny attached Arthurian transformers to the walls with sticking charms. Arthur assembled and tested a computer while Babs was typing on her laptop, connected to a server. She looked up and called, "Mr. Potter! A moment please?" He moved over to her, awkwardly carrying his own laptop. Professor Flitwick joined them a moment later, his own boxed laptop floating behind him.

Karen and Kelly entered, and Babs waved them over. Professor Flitwick levitated the server to a rack, where it was screwed in and powered up. Kelly cheered as she logged in on the computer Arthur had assembled, then started to type. Babs motioned us all together, then said, "All right. While Kelly gets all the accounts entered, we need you to get the switches installed in the different Houses." She grinned, and added, "You're a bit territorial, so I'm going to show you on the one we'll install for the library. You'll be installing one in each Head's office, just like this one. Grab two computers and two scanners from the hallway, and something out of the library pile, and come with me."

------------------------

"What do you want?" Madam Pince snapped. She spied the various bits of equipment, and said, "That foolish idea of the Headmaster. Very well, over here." She turned and stalked off, muttering to herself.

"Charming person. Come on," Babs said. We followed her to a small room, where a thin, orange pair of fiber cables dropped down from the ceiling. A stack of books waited outside with Madame Pince, who sniffed and stalked off as we unpacked things.

"All right. We'll be installing this in each of your Houses. The first thing we need to do is to get the rack together, and attached to the wall. The orange cable is delicate, it's the fiber circuit back to the computer room, and it's made of spun glass, so be very gentle with it." I nodded with the rest, and Babs said, "The gray cables on the wall connect to the workstations. They're numbered, and plug into the corresponding jacks on the back of the black patch panel." She tapped it, and continued, "The short gray cables go between the black Cisco switch and the patch panel." She pulled a sheet of paper out, and added, "This list tells you which one goes where. Since this will be one of the scanning rooms, we'll be installing two computers and scanners in here. Mattie, could you and Mr. Spencer fetch your laptops so you can test while we get this set up?" I nodded, and followed Harry out.

------------------------

I had done rock, paper, and scissors with Harry Spencer, and lost, so I knocked on Madame Pince's office door. "What is it?" She snapped.

I swallowed nervously, and answered, "Mattie Wayne, ma'am. I'm here to test your network connection."

The door banged open, and she said, "Well, come on, then. Get this foolishness out of the way. I've got too much work to do to waste time."

"Yes, ma'am," I said as I entered. "We'll be delivering your computer later, and Professor Harry will be coming by to give you a briefing." She glared at me, and I gave her a weak smile, sticking a transformer to the wall as I plugged in to the network. I tapped on the keyboard, running the test program. Smiling, I said, "Everything tests correctly. Thank you for your time, ma'am." I nodded and escaped as quickly as I could politely do so.

Harry Spencer was waiting for me outside. He grinned, and said, "How'd you do with the old bat? She gives hags a bad name."

I shrugged. "So-so. I'm glad I'm not the one who has to train her."

"True. I may be a courageous Gryff, but it doesn't mean I'm _stupid_." I chuckled, and he said, "For someone whose family members regularly confront the worst of Gotham, I wouldn't think you'd be afraid of a librarian."

I stopped and looked at him. "Excuse me?"

He waved me over, and pulled a chair out for me. Taking another, he straddled it, and quietly told me, "Every year, my security people get a copy of the incoming class list for Hogwarts." I nodded, and he continued, "The last couple years, after they've done a muggle background check on all of them, I've cross-checked it against the Wizarding Who's Who. Your mother and father had very _interesting_ entries, which changed later to fairly innocuous ones." He gazed at me, and asked, "What conclusion would you draw?"

"How trustworthy you are, and if I should kill you." I said.

"I have no doubt you could. I saw the article in the _Daily Planet_, you know. However, I also know your family never kills. Now, considering that the library's copies of Who's Who vanished for a time at the beginning of the school year, the known close working relationship between Superman and Batman, and that your godparents are Mrs. Lane and her husband Clark, I wonder if Mr. Lane is..."

I gazed at him through narrowed eyes, and he concluded with a whisper, "... Superman."

_Review?_


	12. Classes, Week Nineteen, First Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**12 - Classes, Week Nineteen, First Year  
**------------------------  
_**Sunday, January 3, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Common table  
**_------------------------

"Good morning!" I said as I sat down. "Any word on the baby?"

"It was a false labor, they're still waiting," Professor McGonagall said. She asked, "Any consensus on our private libraries?"

"I will post sections of my personal library," Professor Snape said. "As long as it is reciprocated. As for the House library, I will accept a vote of Slytherin tomorrow upon the return of the students. Filius?"

"Oh, I quite agree! I have long envied some of your collection, Severus! And as far as the House library, I think the term is, err, stomping the butt!"

"I think that's 'champing at the bit' Professor," one of the Cortez twins said. "It means that you're ready and eager to start," the other said with a smile.

"The preliminary tests with the library's Alchemy section worked out well," Babs said. "There are a few minor problems to sort out, mostly relating to the large, oversize books. If you have any larger than fourteen inches in one dimension, we'll have to set them aside for now. I think those are mostly in the Astronomy section, however."

"Some botanical plates are that large, Mrs. Grayson," Professor Snape said.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," she replied. "Next item, Hogwarts will need a home page, to represent the school on maginet." She passed out color printouts, adding, "These are the home pages for Salem, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and the American Department of Magic. What you'll need is a main page, and I would also suggest ancillary ones for both the staff and the four Houses. They can have the same style or different, it's up to you. I would suggest the best artist and the best designer from each house put their heads together, possibly with a competition to be voted on." She shrugged, and added, "It can be a long process, maybe have the final judging before the Easter break. Kelly, that's your call, I'll be back in the States by then."

Kelly jolted awake and said, "Um, but you'll be available?"

"Not to judge it, that's Hogwarts' job." Babs smiled gently, then said, "I'll make some suggestions later, and you can tell me to bugger off if you want."

"Certainly not!"

"You're talking about someone's personal taste, Minerva," Babs said. "What I might do is to have, say, five teams, one from each of the Houses, and have them design, oh, six pages each. The main school page, one for each of the four Houses, and a staff page." She glanced at Kelly, then added, "Set up a system where everyone can vote on each entry, but they can only vote once. Label the entries one through five, and when, say, 85 of the school's voted, it will display the winner."

"How would we know who the winning team is?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"The headmaster could assign the numbers, which would be kept secret. He can announce the winner later in the year." Babs smiled, and added, "It might help with the shyer students. Some of them are quite remarkable artists."

------------------------

"Ready for this?" Karen asked as the Hogwarts Express pulled in. I nodded, and waited for it to stop, and people to step off. She muttered a quick '_sonorous_', and called, **"SLYTHERIN OVER HERE! SLYTHERIN TO ME! SLYTHERIN OVER HERE!"** I heard the other houses being called to meet at other locations, and started a quick head count.

"What's going on, Mattie?" Sprink asked, bouncing on her toes. "Didya have a Happy Christmas?"

"Great, thanks. I'll talk later, I need to get this head count." I looked around, and asked, "Anyone seen the Dorney twins?"

"They were on the train... they're talking to Frank," Emma said. I looked, saw them, and checked them off.

"Got everyone?" Karen asked.

"Except for Terry Higgs," I replied, craning my neck.

"He went up to the castle," Emma said. "Something he ate on the train disagreed with him, we insisted he see Madame Pomfrey."

"Right, then." Karen climbed up on a bench, and said, "Quiet, everyone! Two things before you go up to the castle. First, there's a House meeting tonight at eight, we've got a couple things to vote on. Attendance is mandatory, so you've got two hours to eat and get sorted. Secondly, Mattie or I will be sitting down with you to get you sorted on the new computer system."

"It's IN?" Sprink and Emma squealed.

"It's installed, tested, and we've got the Alchemy section of the library already scanned in." A loud cheer sounded, and someone said, "What about Potions?"

Karen said, "We're going alphabetically. We'll be discussing this tonight. For now, I've got people whose surnames are A through M, Mattie's got N through Z. Figure fifteen minutes each, and I hope everyone's got their passwords. Any questions, because I'm hungry!"

"What's the common room password?" someone called as Karen was getting down. She paused, and said, "Get it from Mattie or myself. I don't want to shout it." People turned to me, and I said quietly, "_Fluxweed_."

------------------------

Karen stood by the door, checking people off while I moved around the room, handing out packets to those that needed them.

At eight o'clock, Professor Snape stepped to the front of the room next to the fireplace, and asked, "Is everyone here?"

"Everyone but Professor Trelawney, sir," Karen called from the door.

He sighed, then said, "I will fetch her. Callista, please take over, and proceed without me." With a swirl of his black robes, he left.

"Where's your sister, Karen?" someone called. She replied, "With the faculty. Professor?"

"Right-o," Professor Vector said. She moved up next to the fireplace, and asked, "Everyone hear me? Right-o." She glanced at a hastily scrawled agenda, and said, "Ah, Karen, what's this about the library?"

She moved to the front of the room, and said, "As you know, we're scanning the main library into a searchable database. The question here is private libraries. Professor Snape will be scanning part of his, Professor Flitwick and Ravenclaw will be scanning all of theirs. How much of ours do we want to reveal? Remember, this will be available to everyone in Hogwarts and out on the maginet for the Wizarding World." There was some muttering, and Karen added, "On the last page of your packet, there's a slip for voting all, some, or none. If you vote some, you need to say what you'd like to include or exclude. Put it in the cauldron here next to the fire by the end of the week. Professor?"

"Ah, thank you." She blinked at the scrap of paper, and said, "Home page? Mattie?"

I cleared my throat, and moved up, saying, "If you look at the color pictures, these are what a site on the Internet looks like. There are several, from Salem, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and the American Department of Magic. Each has a distinct style. The question here is for Hogwarts' Home Page. The suggestion has been made for each House to design six pages, and Hogwarts will vote. Here, we are asking if you have a better plan, and who you think would be the best people from Slytherin. We're looking for someone with an eye for design, and a good artist." I held up my hands, and said, "Please, I beg you, don't put me down!" This got a chuckle, and I said with a smile, "I'm serious! I have trouble drawing a straight line!" Another chuckle, and I added, "I'll help, of course, but don't put me down as an artist unless you want to lose! You've seen my transfigured teacups!" More laughs, and I said, "That's the other half of the last page in your packet, and it goes in the cauldron too." I smiled, and said, "Professor?"

"Thank you, Mattie. Something to doodle in History?" People laughed, and she said, "As long as it's not in my class! Next up, you'll need to sit with Karen or Mattie to get you sorted. Please remember that they need study time too. Karen is available Wednesday afternoons, Mattie has free Thursdays from 10:30 to 12:00, and on Friday afternoons. People with surnames A through M see Karen, N through Z see Mattie, and figure about fifteen minutes." Karen nodded, and Professor Vector asked, "Anything else?"

Karen said, "Remember that you'll need four or five passwords before you meet with us, and that we've got Quidditch against Ravenclaw on Saturday. Mattie?"

"I put a copy of the letter of appreciation from my church to the Headmaster on the board. They were very grateful for the donation of our extra Quidditch woolens."

------------------------  
_**Monday, January 4, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin table  
**_------------------------

"So how was your Christmas, Mattie? You just kinda fell into bed last night," Sprink asked.

I took a slurp of coffee, and yawned. "Sorry. The last few days have been kinda hectic. Anyway, I went home for Christmas, and Arthur Morton from Hufflepuff, and the Cortez twins from Ravenclaw joined me." I took another slurp, and added, "My Aunt Lois wrote a little feature story for her paper, I posted a copy in the common room if anyone's interested." My watch buzzed, and I gulped down the remainder of the coffee, adding, "I can get a couple people set up this afternoon, I've got Astronomy tonight. Sprink, we gotta get to Herbology."

------------------------

"Good Morning to everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas!" Professor Dumbledore said as we stumbled into Greenhouse One. As I kicked the snow off my boots, Amanda Leeds asked, "Where's Professor Sprout, sir?"

"Her granddaughter is in labour at St. Mungo's. The baby is a bit premature, so I agreed to fill in for her. I'm sure that she'll be happy to give you all the details when she returns." The headmaster clapped his hands, and said, "Now then, who can tell me about the Flitterbloom? Mr. Adams?"

------------------------

I yawned as I walked back to the castle (it was snowing again), and Sprink asked, "Mattie, since we're free after lunch, can you get me set up on the computer thing?" She grinned, and said, "T for Tonks, I'm one a'yours!"

"Sure, let me get some coffee, though."

"That's what house elves are for, Mattie! Hey, do the connections in the dorms work?" Some of the other firsties leaned closer to hear.

"They did when we tested them." I picked up a handful of snow and ate it to try and wake up. "I don't know if Professor Snape left them enabled or not. The way we designed it, the Heads can decide which ones work by connecting cables, so they can enable the third year girls, but not the third year boys, for instance. Professor McGonagall wanted it that way." The Gryffs groaned when I said that, and I grinned, "I think she was thinking of the Weasley twins when she thought of that."

Sprink nodded, "'Kay. Anything I should bring? I got my passwords!"

"Good. Bring a couple bits of homework, and I'll show you how to scan them in." I waggled my finger, and said, "That means you can share scanner duty, though!"

"On the library books?" Sprink looked thoughtful, and asked, "Why not let elves do them?"

"The blood curses on them," I said, and other people looked interested. "Only Slytherins can handle them, and we don't want to kill off the elves when they touch a book, y'know." I affected boredom, and added, "They're risking their lives just to dust in there, as it is." I kicked snow off my boots as we entered the main hall, saying, "See you tonight, guys!"

Sprink kept a straight face until we reached the common room, then she cracked up, saying, "Blood curses! Mattie, you are _devious_!"

"Why, thank you!" I curtsied to her, and added, "They'll think anything they see on the 'net will be the more innocuous books, they'll wonder what we're hiding. C'mon, let's dump our stuff, and get you set up. I do want a cup of coffee, though."

------------------------

In the library, we had set up two computers back-to-back. I pulled a chair 'round to sit next to Sprink, and said, "Okay, we start at the beginning. Put your wand in the rest, with the grip flush to the left, then push the power buttons. We've marked them in green for you." She found the computer, monitor, and scanner buttons, but couldn't find the printer switch until I showed it to her. As we waited for Happy Mac, I commented, "You'll print to the closest printer to the machine you're on, so in here, you'll print to this one, in the library..."

"... To a library printer," she said while nodding. "Makes sense. What next?"

"The printers have silencing charms on them, but we'll get to them in a minute. We log in by putting your user name at the top there: _stonks_. Hit your Tab key to go to the next line, and type _Slytherin_, then the Return key." I helped her find each key.

"Why aren't the letters normal, like, in order?"

"The wizarding world isn't the only place where things get stuck." I grinned, and added, "That layout is a carryover from older machines, and it just never changed. There are more efficient designs, but they didn't sell very well, so this is what we have to work with." I shrugged, adding, "I never said it was a perfect world. Anyway, one of the programs everyone can use is a typing tutor. I'll show you in a minute, but first you need to hit 'Return'."

"Oh, yeah. Hey, what's that?"

"It's a window asking you to change your password. Type _Slytherin_ in the top box, spelled just like before, then your new password in the middle and lower boxes, spelled _exactly_ alike."

"Okay. F-I-R-E..."

"Don't tell me!" Sprink jumped, and I reminded her, "It's supposed to be _secret_, remember? Now I'll turn around, and you can type another one, silently. Hit your Return key when you're finished."

"But I trust you, Mattie!"

I grinned, and said, "Thank you, Sprink. I trust you, too, but this is better security." I waved at the keyboard, and turned, saying, "Let me know, all right?"

I heard her tapping and cursing under her breath, then she said, "Is this right, Mattie? They're all stars."

"It's supposed to be that way. Are you ready?" She grunted, and I turned around. "Hit the Return key." She did so, and I said, "The reason it's all stars is so someone can't look over your shoulder as you type your password. You see, if you had picked, um, _hat_ as a password, and someone knew that, or saw you type it, they could impersonate you on the network, do all sorts of nasty things, and you'd get the blame."

"Oh. So that's why you didn't want to know my password. It's like someone stealing my wand, casting an Unforgivable, and putting it back."

"Exactly. When I need to log in, I'll use my own wand and password, which will trace back to me, not you," Sprink nodded, and I pointed to the screen. "See the black arrow? You move it with your mouse - it's that white boxy thing next to your right hand." She groped for it, and waved it around a bit. I grinned, and said, "On the mat. Index finger on the button, move it up to the color-striped apple in the upper left and click the button on the mouse and _hold it_. Try it again, a menu should drop down." Sprink tried it again; "There you go!"

Karen came in with Professor Snape, and asked, "How's it going?"

"We're going to have to revise our time estimates if we're going to do this right," I said. "We've been going for half an hour, and we've just gotten to pulling down a menu and clicking a mouse. Sprink's not stupid, she's trying hard, but it's totally unfamiliar to her. The only experience she's had is watching me, which isn't any real help to her."

"Your thoughts, Miss Tonks?" Professor Snape asked.

"Right now I do feel kinda stupid," she admitted. She added hurriedly, "It's not Mattie, she's trying to keep things understandable to me, but the other houses have more experience with this than we do. We've got Mattie and Karen, they're the only ones who know this, and it's going to take a long time to get everyone in the house competent."

"Right now, sir, it's at the level of using a quill for the first time, and forming words and sentences," I said. "We based the estimate of fifteen minutes per person on previous experience, but that was with muggles and muggleborn wizards, who grew up with this, not with pureblood wizards who have never seen it before in their lives." He frowned in thought, and I said, "Right now, I'd revise our estimates to at least two hours per person, based solely on Sprink's performance here. Some people will take more, some will take less."

"I see. Suggestions?" he asked.

"Group training of some sort would be the most efficient," I suggested. "It's a little late, but creating a formal computer classroom of some sort might be useful."

"Getting help from the other houses," Sprink suggested. Professor Snape frowned, and she raised her hands, saying, "I know, I know. House pride and all, but that's where the help is, and we need it. The other thing is to have Mattie and Karen do this full time."

"That would not be acceptable. Their education comes first."

I cleared my throat, and said, "Thank you, sir. Sprink, please don't take this personally, all right?" She nodded, and I continued, "This is somewhat exhausting for me, I have to keep fighting the urge to simply do it myself. If I do, Sprink won't learn. I also have to keep, um, rephrasing what I'm going to say. Like you would use different language with other Potion Masters than with muggle firsties, sir."

Karen said, "It's like the other houses have started with third year, and we're starting with first?" I nodded, and she frowned.

"Hmm. I shall bring this up at Wednesday's staff meeting. What size would you suggest for a class?"

"Maybe twenty or so," Sprink suggested. "Maybe also do it early each year for the wizardborn, like the flying lessons."

"The muggleborn should already be competent with these," Karen said. "They'd just need the details, which could be handled by a parchment handout or individually, sir."

"I see," he tapped a long finger against his lips in thought. "I see. For now, continue as before. Miss Bundy, I shall write you a slip for your Charms class. Thank you." He swept out, followed by Karen.

"Well, that was interesting," I said, and Sprink nodded. "Let's get back to it!" and motioned to the screen.

------------------------  
_**Tuesday, January 5, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin house, First year girls' dorm  
**_------------------------

"Mattie? Mattie! C'mon, wake up! I let you sleep in as long as I could. You've got fifteen minutes before History, I brought you a sandwich and coffee for breakfast."

"Wazza? Sprink? Time is it?"

"Eight forty-five. C'mon, get up and showered."

"'Kay," I stumbled through the bed hangings, pulling my nightgown off as I staggered along. I turned, mumbling, "Shower stuff."

"In there, along with a fresh uniform. C'mon, Mattie, you can do it."

------------------------

"Blimey, Mattie, you look horrible," Charlie said.

Amanda poked him, "You twit! What's wrong?"

"Getting Slytherin trained up," Sprink said. "C'mon, Mattie, you can sleep in History."

------------------------

I heard a bell ring, and Sprink was shaking me awake. "Lunch, Mattie, then your favorite class!"

"Thanks, Sprink." I blinked, and yawned, "I'd kill for a cup of coffee now."

"I thought your family had a rule about killing," she said as she slung my arm over her shoulder.

I yawned again, "Exception to the rule."

------------------------

"Mattie, drink this. It's from Professor Snape."

"Wazza?" I asked.

"Pepperup potion. It'll get you back on your feet. C'mon now," I opened one eye to see Emma waving a vial of something in front of me. I shrugged, popped the top and swallowed it. I yawned, and put my head back down.

"No reaction?"

"Nae, sir." Ian's voice. I wondered what they were talking about.

"She's semi-conscious. How has she been lately?"

"She was fine yesterday in Herbology, then it just hit her yesterday, and she was really struggling in Astronomy." Sprink.

"I will take her to the infirmary. Inform the class I will be delayed, Miss Tonks." I felt strong arms pick me up, and I wiggled a bit, mumbling, "Dad?"

"I am honored, Miss Wayne."

------------------------

"Turn out the light, will ya?" I mumbled, throwing an arm over my eyes.

"No light switch. Sorry, Mattie."

I blinked, and looked up at one of the twins. "I still haven't figured out how to tell you apart."

"Simple. I had an infected piercing, so I have two holes in my right earlobe. Roshawn only has one." Shaundra grinned, then said, "Now, being able to see our ears, that's a different story. I'll go tell Madame Pomfrey you're up. Be right back."

I punched the pillow, and tried to sit up when I heard the clicking of Madame Pomfrey's heels. She said, "Welcome back, Miss Wayne. How do you feel?"

I thought about it, and said, "Not bad, surprisingly. What happened?"

Pomfrey glowered at Shaundra, who I motioned to a chair. She looked at me, and said, "You are apparently allergic to flitterblooms. I have treated you; you will need a booster every six months until you are fifteen. I have notified Professor Snape and Professor Sprout."

"Thank you. What about the baby?"

"Erin Michelle Sprout, born yesterday morning at eight fifty-three. Two pounds, nine ounces, fifteen inches. Professor Flitwick won the pot."

"Yesterday's Tuesday, so I can still get to Transfig."

Pomfrey shook her head, "Today's Thursday. You've slept through Wednesday, and if you behave, I'll release you for dinner tonight." She sighed, and said, "I don't DARE try to keep Quidditch players from their games, but no violent maneuvers, young lady!"

Shaundra patted my shoulder, and said, "Don't worry, Mattie. Ravenclaw will get the snitch, and you Slythies can rest up for Hufflepuff in May."

I glared at her, and said, "No way! That snitch is MINE, and five bucks backs it up!" She shook on it as Pomfrey sighed.

------------------------

"How ya doing, munchkin?" I looked up and hollered "Dick! What are you doing here?"

"Shh! Don't you know there are sick people in here?" Lois asked. I giggled, and she said, "Well, not really. You're the only one."

"When are they springing you?" Uncle Clark said, chair creaking under his weight.

"Tonight if I'm good. What are you guys doing here?"

"Well, there is that NATO conference in London, and..." Lois looked at him, he coughed, and added, "What, we can't visit you when you're sick?"

"Why don't you just admit it, you two?" Dick asked. "You want to see Mattie play Quidditch."

"Oh, lord!" I covered my face with my Transfig textbook, and Dick chuckled.

"Relax. Sheila and Bruce aren't here."

"They get in tonight." I peeked over the book, and Uncle Doc looked at me as Clark moved aside. "Hmm. Temperature, pulse, all looking good. Your mother is meeting with the Headmaster." The bell rang, and the thunder of students leaving class was heard. "Madame Pomfrey said you could leave at five if you felt up to it. How are you?"

"Bored. Can I go?"

He checked me over one last time, and then said, "If you wish. One of your classmates left a fresh uniform for you in the bottom drawer. We'll wait for you outside."

------------------------

I stopped on the way out the door, and knocked. Sticking my head in, I said, "Madame Pomfrey? I'd just like to say thanks."

"My pleasure, Miss Wayne. I didn't know your godfather was a healer."

"Bit of a strange assortment," I grinned. "Two journalists, an attorney, and a physician."

"Ah, so you're the one in the article I read in the staffroom."

"Yes, ma'am. Aunt Lois wrote it when Arthur Morton and the Cortez twins came for Christmas." I grinned again, and said, "That article's gotten about some. I wish I knew who was spreading it around. Aunt Lois will be pleased though."

"Well, off with you, and good luck on Saturday."

------------------------

"Mom!" I called, running down the corridor. She scooped me up, and hugged me, then said, "Let me take a look at you! How do you feel?"

"Fine, and Uncle Doc says I am, too."

She harrumphed, and then proceeded to give me her own inspection. She looked over my shoulder, and said, "How is she?"

"Fine, now," Uncle Doc said. "It was a severe allergic reaction, but that's ALL it was, Selina. I've gotten the information on it, the treatment, and I will be contacted as the family physician on a regular basis." He ruffled my hair, and said, "Now that Mattie here has been helping to get their system set up, I have the email addresses for people here."

Mom tugged at my clothes a bit, then said, "All right. I'm programming in Hogwarts to the transport tube in the cave, though."

------------------------

"Mattie! Welcome back, lil' sis!" Ian scooped me into a hug, then passed me to Frank.

"Hey, guys! More family to meet! Everyone, these are my godparents, Uncle Doc, Aunt Lois and Uncle Clark. You've met my brother Dick and my Mom before." I giggled as I watched. Uncle Doc was still solid, Dick was about twice as large as Frank, with more muscle and a leaner build, but if Ian was big, Uncle Clark was mountainous.

"Grow them big in the States, don't they?" Karen whispered as she licked her lips.

I looked at her, and said quietly, "They are very, very taken. If you want to stay alive, don't go there, Karen. I saw you reading the article in the common room." I looked back as she blanched, and said, "Oh, god."

"What?" Emma whispered. Ian had stuck out his hand to Uncle Clark, and was _trying_ to squeeze. "Macho games," I replied.

"Clark, the cooks here are fabulous, let's eat," Mom said.

"Sounds wonderful. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. MacDonald. I'm glad Mattie has such good friends here." Clark smiled, and gave a slight squeeze and pump to Ian's hand, who let out a small whimper. He sat down next to Ian, and gently patted him on the back, asking, "What's good to eat here? Do they have beef bourguignon?"

"Everything, sir. I'm Emma Dobbs. May I ask what you do?"

Clark reached over and shook her hand, "I'm very pleased to meet you, Miss Dobbs. Please, call me Clark. My wife Lois and I are reporters for the _Daily Planet_ in Metropolis."

"You're the one what wrote the article in the common room?" Karen asked, her London Cockney accent coming out a bit. She blushed, and said, "Sorry, I'm Karen Bundy. Pleased to meet you."

Lois looked at me, and I said, "Your Christmas article from home. It's gotten around the school, although I don't know how."

"It's a nice Christmas article, Mattie. Good to see you up and about. Are you cleared for Quidditch?" Sprink offered her hand, and said, "Sprink Tonks, I'm a firstie like Mattie."

"Yes, she is. Good evening, Miss Tonks," Uncle Doc said. "I'm Dr. Phillips, the family physician. It was a severe allergic reaction, but it's treated now." He looked at her, and asked, "If I may, 'Sprink' is an unusual first name."

"It's a nickname, because I hate my real name: Susquehanna Elenora Tonks. Blech." She shuddered, and said, "Mattie, I've got your homework for you." I groaned, and Lois and Clark chuckled. "Professor Snape said you could skip the practical on this potion, but you still had to do the written. I've got your Charms and Transfig, too." I groaned again.

"What is this 'Transfig' that you're groaning about, Mattie?" Uncle Clark asked.

"Transfiguration, sir. It's Mattie's worst subject. What's the assignment?" Ian said.

"Still inanimate, although different composition," Sprink said. "China teacups to silver goblets, retaining fluid."

"Retaining the fluid, that's the trick, now," Ian said. "Watch, Mattie, and then we'll have a go." Emma passed him a pitcher of juice, and he took a gulp, offering it to Uncle Clark. He did, going 'Hmm' at the taste. "Now then, first we transfigure to the teacup." He waved his wand, asking Lois, "What's your preference, ma'am?"

"Earl Gray?" she asked, fascinated. Ian flicked his wand, and offered it to her. She blinked, sipped, and gave it back, saying with a grin, "It needs lemon." He flicked again with a smile, and passed it back to her. She sipped, and smiled.

"Now then, we change it to the silver goblets, which is not appropriate for tea, but there you are," Ian said. He waved his wand, and passed the goblet to Lois with a smile.

"Oh, my!" Lois blinked, examined the goblet, then sipped again. "How did you do that?"

"Magic, ma'am." Ian smiled, and added, "Now then, I'm a pureblood wizard, I grew up with this. I'm also a seventh-year, so it's fairly basic to me. In addition, my clan traces back over two thousand years. Mattie is a firstie and it's new to her. She's also coming from a muggle background, which is why she's struggling with Transfig. A lot of the muggle students do. She starts to analyze too much, which is what she's trained in." He held up his hand, saying, "There's nae wrong wi' that, I've learned quite a bit from her. However, she needs to be able to just, well, turn that off, and believe that it will work."

"It's how you're raised," Karen said. "I'm from a wizarding family that's partially muggle, because my sister's a squib, her magic is weak." She nodded, "Sprink on the other hand is from a fully magical family, and is in Mattie's class. Sprink?" Karen tapped her wand to reset the goblet to a teacup, and offered it to Sprink.

"I've also heard the lecture, and Mattie hasn't," Sprink said. She screwed up her eyes, waved her wand, and offered the goblet to Lois.

"Miss Wayne's Potions marks are also adequate for her grade. How nice to see you again, Mrs. Wayne, Mr. Grayson." He offered his hand to Lois, saying, "Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House."

"Lois Lane, my husband Clark Kent, and Dr. Phillips, godparents to Mattie."

Professor Snape shook their hands, then said, "Miss Wayne, please come by my classroom at seven thirty this evening, and I will review the potion with you. As it takes a week to brew, you are excused from the practical for now. I expect it to be made up by the end of the month. Have you been released for Quidditch?"

Dr. Phillips said, "She has been released by Ms. Pomfrey."

He nodded politely, then said, "As you have missed two and a half days, Miss Wayne, I will be satisfied with a rough draft of your homework this week before you may play. Please see me Friday no later than five o'clock." With that, he moved silently off.

Clark asked, "Adequate grades, and what's this about homework?"

"Professor Snape NEVER gives compliments," Frank said. "If he said Mattie's grades were adequate, they were adequate to HIS standards, which are very, very high."

Emma added, "Professor Snape is one of six Potion Masters in Great Britain. If he says Mattie's grades are 'adequate', she's doing very well in that class." She grinned, and added, "He doesn't suffer fools either, which is why some other students have trouble in his class. If Mattie were not doing well, he would tell you, in public, and in _very_ unpleasant detail, and he wouldn't care about your social position, either."

"And the homework? Uncle Doc asked.

"His rule is that you must have immediate homework done to his satisfaction before you can play Quidditch," Karen said. "I'm team captain, but if I didn't have mine done, he wouldn't let me play, and even though I whinge about it, I can't fault his reasons. By letting Mattie submit a rough draft instead of finished work, she can get it done IF she works tonight and tomorrow afternoon, in her free period." She frowned, and said, "That puts the burden on me to get Slytherin set up with the new computer system."

"Why you, dear?" Lois asked.

"The problem is that most of the people in the house are like Ian," I said. "Wizards that have never seen a computer before, and until I brought one, didn't even know they existed. We have to start with hunt 'n' peck typing, basic mouse movements, while the other houses have more muggleborn students who are familiar with all that. Karen and I are the closest we have to experts, which is why we're training everyone." I sighed, and added, "I was only able to get two people done Monday afternoon, and then Karen has free time on Wednesday."

"I got four, but I doubled up," Karen admitted. "So we've got six out of seventy-two students done. This is going to take forever."

"We're movin' from what Mattie calls tha' fourteenth century to the twentieth, and it's painful for some people," Frank said. He offered a quill to Lois, and said, "That's what we've been usin' to write with. We _know_ we need to update ourselves, we just dinnae know it would be sae hard!"

I took his hand, and said, "It's been tough for me, too. A year ago, witches only existed in stories, and lived in gingerbread cottages. Now I find myself one."

------------------------  
_**Friday, January 8, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
**_------------------------

I looked up as the Headmaster approached with Professor Harry. With a twinkle in his eye, he asked, "Mr. Wayne, might I ask a kindness of you and your family?"

People budged over, and they sat. "What can we do for you, Headmaster?"

"I am given to understand that your family is particularly skilled in the martial arts?" Dad waited, and Professor Dumbledore continued, "If you would consent to a small demonstration, I feel this might be beneficial to the students, as exposure to new things always is."

Professor Harry said, "Wandless fighting has come up before in my Defense classes, and since you are here, well," he grinned, "Forgive me, but I took advantage of the opportunity."

"I see. We will set the parameters and conditions, however," Dad said.

"Whatever you require that is within Hogwarts' power to provide," the Headmaster said. "As Miss Wayne's next class is Defense, perhaps then?" Dad considered him, blue eyes boring into Professor Dumbledore's then nodded.

"Excellent! If you will excuse me, I will make the announcement. The Room of Requirement, Harry?" He nodded, and they both excused themselves, the Headmaster back to the High Table, Professor Harry to the Room of Requirement.

With a few taps on the Headmaster's goblet, the buzz died down. "Good Morning! I have a brief announcement to make. The first year Defense class will be meeting in the Room of Requirement today, for a demonstration of the martial arts." An excited murmur arose, and he tapped the goblet again. "In addition, with the staff's consent, the other years are welcome to observe."

Professor Snape rose, and the hubbub quieted, "Headmaster, a few minutes delay would be appreciated. The fourth-year Potions class will need time to make an alteration to their potion." He gazed at the students, and said, "Fourth years will meet immediately in the classroom if you wish to view this demonstration." With a swirl of his black robes, he stalked out, followed by the fourth-year class.

"What is the 'Room of Requirement'?" Lois asked.

"It's a room that will be whatever you want it to be. We use if for the DA club," Karen said. "If you're finished, we'll go, and beat most of the rush." Students were already streaming out the doors.

------------------------

"Good morning, everyone!" Professor Harry said. "Since this is first year Defense, I'd like to have them in front, please." While people sorted themselves out, Professor Harry cast cushioning charms on the floor, and said, "Without further ado, Mr. Dick Grayson."

"Good morning. You might be interested in a definition of the martial arts. Martial arts, literally means 'military skills' and they encompass various individual fighting methods." Dick paced a bit, adding, "The martial arts were created for combat. Combat may occur in different forms. It may occur in war, law enforcement, or simply for personal self-defense. Martial arts were originally developed as a method for those without weapons to protect themselves from those who had them. Since then, it has evolved from just fighting methods into a way of life."

He looked up at the students, and commented, "Most people go through their entire lives without having to defend themselves physically. The martial arts are used to preserve life, through their use in self-defense or the defense of others. Martial arts build character, they are not something one does occasionally for self-defense or to improve physical fitness, rather, they are a way of living to enrich yourself."

He grinned, and said, "Okay, that's the philosophy. The martial arts are not simply kicking butt in a fight, they're a way to improve yourself. They will make you a better student, a better athlete, and a better person to know. However, you're thinking, 'Yeah, yeah, how does that apply to me?'"

He paced a bit, and said, "It builds self confidence, which a lot of people lack. They _know_ they can ace that test, they _know_ they can score that goal." He looked at the audience, and asked, "What happens if you lose your wand to an enemy, or you're in a crowd and can't use it? For instance, a former lover confronts you, and becomes violent. We've all had former lovers."

Babs stood, and said warningly, "Dick Grayson, if you know what's good for you..."

"Except me, of course," Dick hastily said with a grin. He kissed Babs, and added over his shoulder, "The only woman I've ever loved." He kissed her hand, and she settled back down with a grin.

He dramatically wiped sweat, saying, "Whew! That was close!" There was a chuckle, and he added, "Seriously, another thing is a sexual assault. Rape doesn't happen only to girls, fellows, there's always someone bigger than you."

He let them chew on that for a minute, then said, "There's two styles of fighting, hard and soft. Hard styles, such as Karate and Tae-kwon-do, are direct. They provide feedback to the attacker in the form of pain and they will be injured. Soft styles, on the other hand, let your opponent exhaust himself by using indirect techniques. This would be a sweeping block to deflect a blow, letting you neutralize him without causing injury."

"Now, I'll introduce Mr. Clark Kent. As you can see, he's easily the biggest fellow in the room, and he'll be our mugger. Mattie, can I borrow one of your carbon blades?"

I tossed him one from my boot, which he caught, without turning. He offered it to several members in the audience to examine, then called, "Clark?" and tossed it to him.

"Thanks, Dick. Who's my victim?"

"Me," I said while moving to the middle of the floor. "Don't worry Uncle Clark, I won't hurt you too much." He grinned at me, then moved off, before grabbing my arm, saying, "Let's party, little girl." I spun inwards, kneed him in the crotch, twisted my arm free, then ran a few yards away.

"The idea in this case," Dick said, "is for the victim to get away from the attacker. She then needs to report this to law enforcement, so someone like me can take care of the attacker." He told Clark, "Drop your weapon, on the ground, mister!" Clark sneered, and made an overhand stab at Dick, who chopped the knife, then spun, knocked Clark's feet from under him, and then twisted an arm behind him, riding him to the floor.

There was applause, then someone said, "I thought there would be all sorts of punches and kicks and stuff."

"Oh, you want a sparring session," Dick grinned. "How much longer do we have, Professor? I'm afraid I'm not dressed for a workout."

Professor Harry said, "Twenty minutes, and we can fix that. Who's fighting whom?"

I said, "I'm rusty, but I'll go. Dick?"

"Beating up my little sister?" he grinned, and said, "Why not?"

I went to an unoccupied table and started to strip, while Professor Harry took Dick aside. As I folded my school robes, Professor McGonagall came up and asked, "Miss Wayne, what are you doing?"

I blinked, and said, "Getting ready to work out, Professor." I removed my tool belt from under my school sweater, then pulled that off, putting them on the table. I checked the carbon fiber blade, then slid it back in its sheath in my right boot, which I started to unlace.

"Naked?" she whispered, scandalized.

"Of course not. I have a bodysuit, Professor," I replied, as I unzipped my school skirt, stepping out of it and folding it neatly. I loosened my school tie, and pulled it off, then unbuttoned and removed my blouse, folding it and laying it on the table. I unbuckled my wand holster from my left forearm, adding it to the table, on top of my socks.

"What are ... these?" she whispered.

"Throwing knives," I said, pulling one and handing it to her. I unbuckled the harness, and folded it on top of my sweater. I took the knife back from her, running the tip of a finger along the edge. She closed her eyes at the sight of the thin line of blood. I grinned, and whispered to her, "Think of long, flat diamonds. You can't be too prepared."

------------------------

Dick and I bowed, and we started to circle. He grinned, and whispered, "Shall we give them a good show?"

"Let's, shall we?" I grinned back, and launched a spinning back kick at his head. He dodged, caught my foot and threw me. As I flipped, I twisted and thrust-kicked, but he back-flipped away, catching my other foot. I did a handspring, twisting and avoiding his knuckle strike, each of us landing in the other's original positions.

"You _are_ rusty, little sis," Dick said with a grin.

"Too much time in the donut shop, brother mine?" I asked sweetly. He chuckled as I flipped him over me, but catching my ankles. I flexed, popping him loose, then handstanding and spinning to bounce off his shoulder roll, catching him in the back of the head with both heels.

"One for you, little sis," Dick called, "My coffee break's over now, though."

I answered, "The way you're moving, you could use more, dear brother." I exaggerated a yawn, and said, "We need to get moving. I still have my Charms homework to finish."

"Well, I mustn't keep you from your schoolwork," he said. He stood, and cracked his knuckles. I cracked mine, and then we bowed again, and sprang at each other.

------------------------

The bell rang, and I slapped the floor. Dick gave me a hand up, and gave me a hug. "Thanks, Dick, I needed a good workout like that."

"How long does it take to learn that?" Amanda asked shyly.

"A lifetime," Dick said as I moved away to get dressed. "However, Mattie's been studying martial arts since she was four."

"I also live in a very competitive city," I added. I heard Arthur mutter, "I'll say!" and smiled at him.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 9, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch pitch, Slytherin locker room  
_**------------------------

After we had changed, we waited as Karen stood for the pre-game pep talk. "All right, everyone, here's what we know about Ravenclaw. They have us on experience this year, their beaters are the only ones they lost to graduation. Their new beaters are the Cortez twins, Yanks and firsties, so they're inexperienced. Frank and Ian, I want you to concentrate on them. Everyone got their earworms in?" I nodded as Karen continued, "In our previous game against the Gryffs, our new tactics caught them by surprise. They'll expect the Ballistic, if they've developed a counter to it, then James will call for a switch to the Wheel attack. However, we haven't practiced it since before the Hols, so we're risking a Stooging penalty. Bear that in mind."

She paced, then said "Orla Quirk is their Captain and Keeper. She did fairly well last year, and this year they had a tough match against the 'Puffs. They go with their Chasers quite a lot. What else? Ignore the crowd and the commentators. We've got the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff captains commentating along with the WWN broadcaster. Everyone, keep your perimeter charms on. Chasers, if you get boxed in, pass to someone else, don't risk a Stooging penalty." She looked us over, then said "Questions, anyone? The weather is 34 degrees, with light snow, so keep your heating charms on. Let's play some QUIDDITCH!"

------------------------

I half-listened to the commentators, when Karen said, "Shh! Here we go!" and I heard, "**...AND QUIRK!**"

"**FROM SLYTHERIN HOUSE WE HAVE: BUNDY, DORNEY, DORNEY, MACDONALD, MACDONALD, TONKS AND WAYNE!**" I zoomed out of the tunnel after my teammates.

------------------------

I orbited, keeping an eye on the Ravenclaw Seeker as well as looking for the snitch. Our chasers had been having duels with the Ravenclaw chasers, with possession of the Quaffle changing back and forth. I feinted, and dove toward the Ravenclaw goal, barrel rolling just for the sheer joy of flight.

"See anything, Mattie?" James asked.

"Just a feint," I said.

"You've fooled the other Seek... Merlin's beard, what's going on?"

"James? I turned, and saw someone in the grandstand fire a curse on a Ravenclaw as James fell.

"Someone's cursing the players!" I came about, and one of the black robed figures fired a curse into the sky, an enormous skull filling the sky above the pitch.

"**DEATH EATERS**!" Someone screamed, and the crowd panicked, while Karen called "**_SLYTHERIN ATTACK_**!"

Our reserves kicked off to join us, while some in the crowd started to duel with the Death Eaters. Karen called, "Mattie, join the Ravenclaws, we can coordinate with them."

"Right," I said, and pulled up to fly into their midst.

"What are you doing here, Wayne?" a chaser said, and I tapped my earworm, replying "Coordinated attack."

"I wondered about that," he said.

I raised my hand, then said, "Okay, Slytherin will attack from the east, out of the sun in ten seconds, can you attack with a Hawkshead formation from the south?"

"That we can. Stay in the center, Wayne." I nodded and sheathed my wand, pulling out a throwing knife. "Here we go, people!" and I dove with the Ravenclaws.

I saw one figure with a silver hand firing curses from it, and I recognized Pettigrew. I stopped jinking and weaving with my broom to get a good throw, and saw the lead Ravenclaw hit by a stunner. "Oh, shit!" I thought. "Enervate, enervate, enervate..." I started to repeat as I threw, and was hit by a stunner myself.


	13. Classes, Week Twenty, First Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**13 - Classes, Week Twenty, First Year  
**------------------------  
_**Unknown Date:  
Unknown Location  
**_------------------------

"...vate, ener..." I stopped mumbling as someone squeezed my calf.

"Did you say something, Nott?"

"No, sir, Mr. Malfoy."

I felt the peculiar floating sensation of the _mobilicorpus_ spell as a door creaked open, and Malfoy said, "Put them in here for now, Nott. We'll retrieve the youngest females for the Dark Revel. Just like old times."

Nott replied, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, sir. Just like old times."

I felt the weight of several bodies on me, and then Malfoy's voice called "_Accio wands_." I felt several thumps as wands slithered past me, then Malfoy called, "_Incarcerous_!" He chuckled, then said, "Your wand, Nott."

"Thank you, sir." I heard the swish of robes, and then Nott's saddened voice, "A Dark Revel. Why couldn't I have been Kissed? Maybe I should kill them now."

"NOTT!"

"Coming, Mr. Malfoy!" Nott called. With a whispered, "Merlin, I'm sorry," I heard the swish of robes, and the boom of the door closing.

------------------------

"Anyone get the name of that lorry?" someone asked. I opened my eyes to a dim cell, a bit of moonlight entering through a barred window. I could see shapes around me, so I started to work my bound hands under my Quidditch robes to get at my tools.  
  
Karen asked, "Can anyone get free?"

I replied, "Working on it. Give me a minute." With a _snick_, my switchblade was working at my wrist ropes.  
  
"Anyone have a wand?" someone asked, and there were mostly negative grunts.  
  
I could feel mine, still in my sheath. "Doesn't anyone else here use a spell-shielded wand sheath?"

"Un-necessary expense," someone said.

"That 'un-necessary expense', means I have a wand," I said. "Ah, that's got it. Now for the chest." I mumbled. "Be glad the Bosom Fairy hasn't visited me yet, guys. I'll probably be a Double D like my mom." I wiggled out of my ropes. "Now then, '_Lumos_!'" my wand tip lit up the stone cell, "Ian, where are you?"  
  
"Over here, lil' sis," he called.  
  
I moved to cut him free, then gave him my wand; "I'm lousy with spellwork. Professor McGonnegal said you're the best of the seventh-years at Transfig. Get people awake and do what you can, and I'll get the rest free."  
  
"What can we do without wands?" someone fretted.  
  
I snorted, and said, "Think like a muggle, you idiot. You've got two hands and two feet. Shaundra, Roshawn, where are you?"  
  
"Over here," they said. I moved to cut them loose, then gave them the sheathed carbon blades from my boots. "Those are really sharp, think of them as flat diamonds."

"Cool!" they chorused as I cut ropes. I continued, "Look, these idiots were wizards, not muggles. I heard them use _accio_ for our wands, then _incarcerous_ and locked us in here."  
  
One of the Cortez twins said, "If I had captured us, I would have done a thorough search, and would have found Mattie's wand, as well as whatever she's using now."

"I'm using an ordinary switchblade. Personally, I would have stripped us all to skin, then separated us. Maybe they don't have that many cells." I moved to the next person, and added, "I would have someone monitoring us, also. Since they haven't reacted, it looks like they aren't."  
  
"How do we know you Slytherins aren't in league with them?" the whiner said.  
  
"Given the circumstances, I'll ignore that insult. For now," Karen said with a cold voice. "After we're out of here, we'll have satisfaction."  
  
"Thanks," Orla Quirk told me. She shifted, and said, "Ackerly, if they were in league with the Death Eaters, would they have armed us?"  
  
------------------------ 

"What next?" someone asked.

"We get out of this cell, find our wands, find out where we are, and call for help," Karen said. "If we can take out a few Death Eaters, so much the better." She looked at Quirk, adding, "We should team up."

"That means revealing a Slytherin secret, guys." I sighed. Karen shrugged, so I asked, "Who's the most flexible in Ravenclaw?" While they dithered, I walked over to the wall under an air vent, and started to climb the stone walls.

"Wayne, what are you doing?" Quirk asked. I looked down, and said, "Getting information. Who's coming?"

"Fawcett is." I looked at the little second-year seeker, held open the grate, and motioned to her.

"I can't climb up there!"

"We'll gi' ye' a boost, lassie," Frank said. "Ian? James?" They made a human pyramid, and she was able to scamper up their backs to where I could grab her and haul her in.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

I waved to the others, then closed the grate. "So am I," I whispered. "Our friends are counting on us, though. We're the smallest, we've got to get it done." She sneezed, and I said, "No noise. Breathe through your mouth. We have to find out how many and where our enemies are." I started to belly-crawl through the small airshaft, and after a minute, she followed me.

I paused to draw another arrow in the dust, and Fawcett asked, "What are you doing?"

"Directions," I whispered. I peeked through a grate, then held a finger across my lips and motioned for her to move up. Below us, Professor Harry was tied to a chair, bloody and beaten. Fawcett squeaked, and I clapped a hand over her mouth. The professor looked up and saw us, and I gave him a 'thumbs up'. We moved back out of sight, and listened.

"Potter, I grow weary of your defiance. We want Our Lord's body returned to us, or we will continue killing the children. Their blood is on your hands, Potter, not ours. Pettigrew?"

"**_CRUCIO_**!"

Professor Harry screamed, while we moved back to see. Pettigrew stopped, and I made a circle, then an OK sign. He grinned, then spat in Pettigrew's face.

"**_CRUCIO_**!"

As he screamed, we backed off, moving a few hundred feet away.

"We've got to do something!" she whispered.

"We are," I replied. "Professor Harry spat in Pettigrew's face to cover our escape. We've let him know we're ok, we've found out what they want, we've seen four Death Eaters, we need to find the others, and our wands." I thought for a minute, then asked, "How did Pettigrew look to you? He's the one with the silver hand, did he look a little weak to you?"

She shrugged, and asked, "I think so, why?"

"I threw a knife at him at the Pitch. I think I scored on him, if so, he's bleeding internally." I looked at her, and said, "It's another weakness we can exploit."

------------------------ 

I heard the crackle of a fire, and peeked through a grate. Lucius Malfoy sat in a leather armchair in a library, a snifter of brandy on a table next to him. I gave the sign for silence, and Fawcett moved up next to me. The fire changed color, and a head appeared, asking "Malfoy?"

"Minister Fudge. How nice of you to call this evening."

"What have you learned from Potter?"

Malfoy sighed. "No taste for the finer things in life, Cornelius? Always impatient, typical Ravenclaw." He leaned forward, and said, "What of my need for a healer? We dare not remove the blade from the wound, yet with every breath it sinks a bit deeper. It is not metal, it is a material I have not seen before. The healer need not be anyone of import, it serves better if they are disposable afterwards."

Fudge snorted, and said, "If you need someone like that, a trainee from St. Mungo's will have to suffice. Now, what about Potter?"

Malfoy took a contemplative sip, and said, "Regretfully the brat continues to defy us. We will take some of the mudbloods and perform a Dark Revel with them, the others continue to hold value as hostages we can ransom." He swirled his snifter of brandy and took an appreciative sip.

"How do you know Potter won't escape?"

"I have his wand, Minister." Malfoy raised it, then touching a box, adding, "Along with those of the hostages. They remain at my mercy. Now what of Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore has been besieged by the parents, and I've added Undersecretary Umbridge there as my personal representative to 'assist' him." He smirked, and added, "Rita Skeeter is not helping his situation. However, some parents are creating problems." Malfoy took a sip, and Fudge continued, "That Lovegood fellow with his newspaper, and the Wayne brat's family. They've already started nosing around, asking questions."

"Then you will shortly have some corpses to hand back," Malfoy said, and Fawcett looked in horror at me. I covered her mouth as he continued, "Such a terrible tragedy, but the Ministry was unable to do anything. That should teach the mudbloods to stay out of our world." He smiled thinly, adding, "Until it is time we rule theirs."

------------------------ 

"Now it's personal," I whispered. I touched the earworm, and asked, "Karen, this is Mattie. Can you hear me?"

"Barely, Mattie."

"Situation update. We've seen a total of ten Death Eaters, they want Voldie's body back. They have Professor Harry; they're torturing him for the location. We let him know we're ok, he's toughing it out."

"Got it, what else?"

"Parents are raising hell with the Ministry, Fudge is stonewalling them and Dumbledore. Protect the muggleborn and Lovegood, Malfoy is planning to kill them as examples."

"What about the rest of us?"

"Plans to ransom you as hostages. Also, Pettigrew may be injured, Malfoy's trying to get him a healer."

"Got it, try not to kill Nott, he may be sympathetic to us."

"Right, we have a location for the wands, we're going to try to steal them."

"Good luck, Mattie."

"You too. Out."

I looked at Fawcett, and said, "Try not to kill Nott, he may be sympathetic." She nodded, and I added, "I hope like hell your transfiguration is better than mine."

------------------------ 

The room was dark and cold, the fire banked to embers. I checked again with my IR goggles, then silently popped open the grille, and whispered, "Jump!"

"I ... I can't!"

"You have to! I have to replace the grille! Look, just hang from your hands, it will only be about four or five feet then!" With a thump, she dropped, and I secured the grille, then dropped to the floor. I moved to the wooden box of wands, and pulled one out, giving it to her.

"This isn't mine."

"Then _accio_ yours, but get transfiguring! I'll watch the door."

"What about Professor Harry's?"

I swished it, and no sparks came out of it. I showed it to Fawcett, and whispered, "It's a fake, leave it!"

------------------------ 

"Down!" I watched the low, moving form in the torchlight, then whispered, "Shadow?"

"Isn't that Ginny's familiar?"

I nodded as the black form moved toward us, and then clicked my tongue. I whispered again, "Shadow, what are you doing ... Professor Harry?" I stroked the soft fur, then said, "If you're Professor Harry, what did you do on the train when Ginny asked if you were Snuffles?" He rolled over on his back, raised his paws, and did a soft miaow.

"It's him," I said. He got back to his feet, and moved back the way he came, looking over his shoulder.

"We should follow him," Fawcett said.

------------------------ 

We followed Shadow to the bloody interrogation room. Inside, there were two dark young forms slumped in chairs. I checked them, saying "Alive, but they need medical help."

"Mattie? Susan?"

"Yeah, we're here with Professor Harry."

"Didn't talk."

"We know. How'd they get you? Let's get you out of those chairs. You did good."

"Thanks. Everyone fought. Pretended they were Klan." They drifted off, and Fawcett stunned them, then did _mobilicorpus_.

"Fawcett, give me the box of wands, and I'll get everyone else, you go to the library with Professor Harry and call Hogwarts. We'll meet you there." Shadow picked up something and carried it in his mouth. It was a bloodied rat with a silver paw.

------------------------ 

I eyed the heavy wooden door. There was no lock, a simple locking bar secured it, but it probably weighed as much as I did. "Where's Uncle Clark when you need him?" I muttered, then drew a wand from the box, drew a breath, then said, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" The bar quivered in its brackets, and I tried again, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

------------------------ 

"Almost ..." Another elbow strike, and the bar rotated, popping free of the bracket, and I was able to pull on it.

"Lil' sis!" Ian pulled me into a bearhug, and I said, "First things first. Here are your wands, and we have people that need medical attention."

"Aye," he passed the box back into the room, and asked, "How are the girls?"

"Weak. They need Pomfrey, they've been tortured," there was a growl, and I said, "We found an office Malfoy was using to talk to Fudge."

"Bloody arse Fudge. Lead the way, lil' sis, an' if ye see Malfoy, he's mine."

"Leave him to the muggleborn," someone said.

------------------------ 

"The floo's communication-only. Nothing can pass through it, it's warded," Karen said dejectedly. "We need to break the wards, or get Malfoy to give us the password to release the wards."

"What about the girls and Professor Harry?"

She waggled a hand. "They need Pomfrey. We've tried every spell she can suggest, but they need to be in the Infirmary, or St. Mungo's."

"With the Ministry in control, I wouldn't trust St. Mungo's," Quirk said. "What about our captives?"

I glanced at the six nude, bound and stunned Death Eaters. "They don't have the password, this is part of Malfoy Manor, and Narcissa didn't know either," Karen added.

"I don't see a choice, we're twenty-six to their four. We need Malfoy. We need to hunt. Correction," I said, "I need to hunt."

------------------------ 

Malfoy stalked along the corridor, robes swirling, blond hair wafting. I stepped in his way, and said, "Mr. Malfoy, we need to talk."

"We have nothing to discuss, _mudblood_, except your funeral," he sneered. There was a _thoom_ sound and the corridor shook. Another _thoom_, and the walls shook again.

"What was that?" he asked.

"My family," I said with a smile. "You've pissed them off, and now they're coming for me." Another _thoom_ sounded, and a mirror toppled, to its indignant complaints. "You see, Mr. Malfoy..." _thoom_, "...If I and my friends aren't found safely..." _thoom_, "...they're going to want to..." _thoom_, "..._discuss_ it with someone. Someone like..." _thoom_, "...you."

"My wards are the strongest in Europe!" _thoom _

"That may..." _thoom_, "...be so. Are the walls?" _thoom _"I'll let you think on the amount of..." _thoom_, "...force required to..." _thoom_, "...let us hear..." _thoom_, "...down here, and what..." _thoom_, "...they could do to..." _thoom_, "...you."

"Then you'll accompany..." _thoom_, "me to the after..." _thoom_, "...life!"

He reached out and grabbed me, pointing his wand at my head. I chuckled, batted his wand away, and flipped him into a wall. I reached down, plucked his wand from his hand, then said, "Mr. Malfoy, I..." _thoom_, "...wouldn't do that..." _thoom_, "...if I were you."

------------------------ 

"Make way!" I called. "Make way for one seriously pissed off Death Eater!" I towed the stunned, nude and bound Malfoy behind me by his long blond hair.

"Oi, Mattie!" Sprink called, "I'd like you to meet my Aunt Bella. Aunt Bella, this is my roommate Mattie Wayne." I passed Malfoy off, and nodded, saying, "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Les..."

"Ms. Black, if you please, Miss Wayne." She regarded me, bound, from her seat on the floor, then said, "Lucius is not an easy man to take. How'd you do it?"

"No offense, ma'am, but I'd rather not say."

"Understandable," she nodded. "For the two knuts it's worth, I do have a pardon from the Minister. With a few sickles, I can get fish to wrap in it."

I smirked, "True. Did you know I have your old bed from 1971?"

"Oh, my, does that bring back memories." She was silent for a minute, then asked, "Is the headboard still loose?"

"Very. I keep reapplying sticking charms. What do we do with you, Ms. Black?"

"In your position? I'd AK me in a heartbeat. Why should you trust me, after all?"

"Exactly." I gazed at her, then said, "You could be useful, though. Tell me why I should argue for your life."

"I've certainly done enough for the Kiss, although I'd prefer the Veil, if I had a choice." She shuddered, and said, "I have no desire to become a Dementor, thank you very much. I can serve as Dumbledore's intelligence, I did, after all not reveal Severus' activities to the Dark Lord."

"Which he will need to verify, of course."

"Of course," she nodded. "In this latest bit of foolishness, I didn't take part in the torture of your friends, or participate in their capture. Personally, I'd be just as happy the Dark Lord stays in whatever crypt Potter's put him. I'm _tired,_ I want to lie on a beach somewhere."

"So why are you here?" Luna Lovegood asked.

"Malfoy called me, and gave me a password past the wards."

"WHAT'S THE PASSWORD?" Sprink shouted.

"Is that all you wanted?" Bella blinked. "It's '_pettigrew's arse'_."

The color of the flames in the fire changed to green, and Pomfrey tumbled through.

------------------------ 

"Mattie? Mattie Wayne?" someone called.

"In here, sir," Ian called from the corridor, and I rushed out to see Uncle Clark.

"Mattie!" he hugged me, tossing aside a glowing, fused lump of rock the size of a bowling ball, which cracked the stone floor, burying itself to steam in the cool air.

Ian blinked, and said, "Sir, what was that?"

"Oh, I was playing handball with that. Did you hear me?"

"Sir, we thought the wall was going to cave in on us!"

"Oh, sorry. I was trying to reach you. Did I come close?"

"Come see, sir," Ian replied. We wandered down the corridor, and confronted the heavy wooden door to the cell. Ian struggled with the locking bar, and Clark cleared his throat. Ian stepped back, and Uncle Clark simply twisted the bar, shoving the door into the room in the process. He leaned it against one wall as we looked.

Huge cracks ran along the rear wall of the cell, which bulged alarmingly in. I looked, and said, "Oh, the wands!" and ran to get the box of leftover wands.

"Here's yours, lil' sis," Ian said. Uncle Clark picked one from the box, then dropped it with an 'Oww!' as I re-holstered mine.

Clark asked, "Shall we get back to Hogwarts? Your parents are worried."

------------------------

"Mattie!" Harry Spencer called outside the Infirmary. "My Gran was listening to the game on the Wireless, and she came by to see if she could help. Mattie Wayne, this is my Gran Elizabeth."

"Miss Wayne, I'm so glad to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

Lois blinked, and said, "Excuse me, but are you..."

"Hufflepuff, 1943, Miss Lane," Lois blinked again, and Gran continued, "I brought along my personal physician to see if we might be of any assistance."

"Two of my friends and Professor Harry were tortured by..." I spat, and Gran patted me on my shoulder.

"Ms. Lane, I wish to meet with you and your husband later. I am MOST distressed by this, and I would like to discuss this with you and Mr. Lovegood." She smiled thinly, and said, "I will not stand for having schoolchildren tortured while they are guests in my home. Now then, I believe the Headmaster wishes to see us, Ms. Lane. Miss Wayne, please join us."

------------------------

"Miss Wayne! Come, come," The Headmaster's usually twinkling eyes were serious. "I understand you overheard something most interesting?"

"You CANNOT give credence to anything this child says! They are delusional ramblings for a politically based vendetta!" Umbridge screeched. Rita Skeeter sat quietly in a corner, quill busy. She looked up, her eyes widening.

"My daughter heard what she heard," a middle-aged man snarled. "If that's too bad for that half-wit Fudge, so much the better!"

"How DARE you insult the Minister of Magic! Why, I..."

"_Accio Rita Skeeter's parchment_," Gran said. "Ms. Umbridge, Ms. Skeeter, you are excused. Press coverage will be with Mr. Kent and Ms. Lane. You are both reminded of the Official Secrets Act, and the penalties for violating it." Gran then turned, and sat in a squashy armchair the Headmaster conjured as the two left.

"Mr. Fawcett, please sit down. Why don't we hear from Miss Wayne about her experiences, hmm?" the Headmaster said. Mr. Fawcett's eyes went wide as he recognized Gran. Professor Dumbledore simply smiled, and waved his wand, conjuring squashy armchairs. He sat back, his screensaver of the school's motto ("_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_") scrolling past. "Now then, Miss Wayne, let's start at the Quidditch game. You had just performed a feint as the Slytherin Seeker, when you saw?"

------------------------

"This conversation you overheard between Minister Fudge and Mr. Malfoy. You are certain of the contents?" Gran asked.

I nodded, "Yes, ma'am. I don't know what else I can say."

She pursed her lips, then said, "Headmaster, I would suggest a Pensieve. Ms. Lane, you may wish to record this." She put her head with my family while Professor Dumbledore fetched a small stone basin.

"Now then, Miss Wayne. Remember your Occlumency training to focus your mind, and concentrate on the scene you saw in Mr. Malfoy's library." I nodded, and he said, "Touch your wand to your temple, and draw the memory out, and drop it in the Pensieve." A silvery thread extended itself from my head, and I dropped it in the basin. "Very good, Miss Wayne!" He stirred it with his wand, then tapped it.

Lois pressed 'Record', and I saw the fire change color, and Fudge's head appeared, asking "Malfoy?"

"Minister Fudge. How nice of you to call this evening."

"What have you learned from Potter?"

------------------------

Lois clicked 'Stop', and said, "It sounds like Minister Fudge is in bed with terrorists to me. He's discussing premeditated murder of a government employee, overthrow of the lawfully constituted government, torture, and genocide. My question is, what is a 'Dark Revel'?"

"A group rape and torture session, Ms. Lane," Professor Snape said. "Death Eaters would gather a family of muggles, rape and torture the children in front of the parents, and then torture the parents to death."

"We are Not Pleased," Gran said. "Ms. Lane?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You are an investigative reporter, with, I believe, six Pulitzers. I want this exposed. Dig it out, root and branch, and publish it. I will speak to your editor, and inform him that you are on a private assignment for me." She smiled thinly at Lois' look of glee, and said, "Do not discuss this with your muggle friends, of course. Mr. Lovegood?"

"Ma'am?"

"Publish Ms. Lane's findings. I only request an advance copy of your newspaper." I thought they had both been dosed with Smile-X from their expressions, but Gran held up her hand, and added, "I promise not to change a single jot or tittle, but I have a vested interest." Gran smiled, and then added, "If I may be of assistance, please do not hesitate to contact me. If you will excuse me, I wish to see how the Cortez family is getting on. Miss Wayne, would you care to join me?"

------------------------


	14. Interlude One

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**14 - Interlude, First Year  
**------------------------  
**_Date: Unknown  
Location: Malfoy Dungeons  
_**------------------------

The fire turned green, and three figures tumbled out. Two were short; one tall. They dusted themselves off, and turned when a figure cleared his throat.

"You're late."

"Yes, well, there was an unexpected delay, milord. You see…" one gabbled.

"Irrelevant, Minister Fudge. Don't let it happen again." The figure gave a single, sharp ring to a silver bell setting next to his glass of brandy, and with a pop, a house elf appeared, head bowed. He motioned, and said, "Take their cloaks, and clean this rug. We will be starting the meeting shortly, now that…" he regarded the three, "…our last _guests_ have arrived."

"Yes, milord!" the house-elf squeaked, and with that, glass in hand, Lucius Malfoy strolled out, the other three behind him.

------------------------

"Count me out," the hollow-eyed witch said.

"Bella, we are in need of your…special…talents," Lucius said.

She snorted, "I am not your only interrogation specialist, Lucius. From what I hear, Umbridge here is an absolute _marvel_ with a blood quill." She looked at the short, pudgy witch, and added, "Alice bands really do _nothing_ for you, dear." Bellatrix shook her head, and said, "I will not betray you, but I will have nothing to do with anything regarding my niece. As you have so _amply_ demonstrated with Draco, blood is blood, and family is family." She leaned closer, and addressed the table, adding, "If I hear of a single hair being disturbed on her head, you **_WILL_** answer to me." She nodded, and took her leave.

"Well, now," Lucius said. "I think we must proceed along slightly different lines. Minister Fudge, you and your assistant Weasley have been most valuable in providing this information to us. Deputy Minister Umbridge, if you would be so kind as to..."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 9, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch pitch, Commentator's booth  
_**------------------------

"Lee!" Ginny Weasley squealed, and enveloped the dreadlocked boy in a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"The Wheeze is sponsoring the broadcasts on the Wizarding Wireless. Naturally, they chose the best announcer for the game. Sorry I missed the last one, I had a touch of pox." He held out his hand to the brunette, and said, "Lee Jordan."

"Abigail Michaels, Hufflepuff captain." She blushed, and said, "I remember your commentating when you were at school."

"As do I. Welcome back, Mr. Jordan," Professor McGonagall said as she shook his hand. "Your last broadcast was a marvel of fairness and professionalism." She gazed at him, then added, "Keep it up. You have the team lists?"

"I do," Lee said, holding up a binder. "The new Slytherin seeker looks good, setting a school record in her first game."

"They're calling her the 'Slytherin Potter'. I don't know how Harry feels about that." Ginny added as they relaxed into chairs. "Need some help setting up your equipment?"

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 9, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch pitch, Slytherin Grandstand  
_**------------------------

"Oh, my. Nice view from up here," Lois said. "Why so high?"

"The players average seventy to a hundred feet in altitude, ma'am," Emma said. "Are you warm enough?"

"Oh, yes, thank you," Lois said. "Scottish wool, finest in the world."

"Heating charms having _nothing_ to do with it, of course!" Terry said, then blushed, and said, "Please forgive me, ma'am!"

"Only if you stop calling me 'ma'am'! You'll make me feel old!" Lois said with a grin. She added, "Clark, let me borrow your binoculars. I forgot mine."

"Certainly, dear." He passed them over, and asked, "So what's next?"

"Wocher! Are we late?" a newcomer asked.

"Certainly not, Miss Tonks." Professor Snape said. Hoods were thrown back from cloaks, and he said, "Allow me to introduce the Black ladies. Andromeda with her daughter Nymphadora, you have already met Narcissa, and her sister Bellatrix. This is the Wayne clan, from the States." He levitated a teapot, asking, "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Tea ala' Potion Master?" Callista Vector asked. "I'll have a cuppa!"

Bellatrix was running her eyes over the Wayne men, tongue moistening her lips. The women noticed, and with laser-like gazes, locked eyes with her. Narcissa leaned over, and whispered, "Bella, don't. If you fancy a tumble, I'll see what I can do, but leave them. Just because they're Yanks, doesn't mean they aren't a pack of wolves. They'll devour your spleen while you watch." Bella swallowed, locked eyes with her sister and nodded. Turning back to the Waynes, she gave a small smile and a nod, and Babs, Lois and Selina settled back with answering smiles.

"Enjoying yourself, dear?" Clark asked.

"Immensely, dear," Lois replied.

------------------------

A booming voice filled the stands, "**GOOD MORNING, QUIDDITCH FANS OF ALL AGES! MY NAME IS LEE JORDAN, AND I HAVE THE HONOR TO BE YOUR COMMENTATOR. WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZE, IN DIAGON ALLEY, LONDON, IS BRINGING TODAY'S BROADCAST TO YOU. AND NOW, TO INTRODUCE THE TEAMS! FOR RAVENCLAW, WE HAVE ACKERLY…"**

Selina leaned over, and said to Lois and Clark, "Mattie will be out in a moment! I'm so excited for her!"

"We all are!" Lois said.

"… AND QUIRK!"

"**FROM SLYTHERIN HOUSE WE HAVE: BUNDY, DORNEY, DORNEY, MACDONALD, MACDONALD, TONKS AND WAYNE!**"

"That's my sister!" Dick shouted, punching the air.

"Tea, mate?" Terry asked him.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 9, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch pitch, Commentator's booth  
_**------------------------**"…AND SLYTHERIN REGAINS POSSESION OF THE QUAFFLE! THIS IS TURNING INTO A CHASER'S BATTLE, FOLKS, NEITHER GRYFFINDOR OR RAVENCLAW HAVE YET WORKED OUT A DEFENSE AGAINST SLYTHERIN'S NEW TACTICS! LET'S HOPE THAT HUFFLEPUFF HAS BETTER LUCK IN MAY!"**

**"WE'RE WORKING ON IT, LEE,"** Abigail said.** "HOWEVER, WE'VE GOT A FEW SURPRISES FOR GRYFFINDOR NEXT MONTH!" **

**"AND THAT WWN BROADCAST WILL BE BROUGHT TO YOU BY WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZE, IN DIAGON ALLEY, LONDON! OUR FLOO ADDRESS IS 'THE WHEEZE!', NICE AND EASY TO REMEMBER!"** A 'DING' was heard, and Lee resumed,** "ANOTHER SCORE FOR SLYTHERIN, BY FIRSTIE SPRINK TONKS, ABLY ASSISTED BY TEAM CAPTAIN KAREN BUNDY!"**

**"THE SCORE'S NOW 120-80 IN FAVOR OF SLYTHERIN, AND SLYTHERIN SEEKER AND FIRSTIE MATTIE WAYNE IS DIVING AT THE RAVENCLAW GOAL! HAS SHE SEEN THE SNITCH? SECOND YEAR RAVENCLAW SEEKER SUSAN FAWCETT IS HAVING TROUBLE KEEPING UP TO WAYNE'S FIREBOLT TWO. WHAT'S WAYNE DOING? … IS SHE'S DOING BARREL ROLLS IN ORDER TO TAUNT FAWCETT?"**

**"THAT DOESN'T FIT WITH WHAT I KNOW OF MATTIE'S PERSONALITY, LEE."** Ginny said,** "IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY FOR FLYING, I THINK SHE'S JUST ENJOY… WAIT A MINUTE, SOMETHING'S GOING ON! THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THE STANDS THAT ARE STUNNING THE PLAYERS!" **

Abigail screamed, and Lee said, "**SOMEONE'S FIRED A DARK MARK INTO THE AIR! BOTH RESERVE TEAMS ARE LIFTING OFF, AND FIGHTING HAS ERUPTED IN THE STANDS! WE HAVE A DEATH EATER ATTACK GOING ON AT HOGWARTS! DA MEMBERS ARE DUELING WITH THE DEATH EATERS AS SPECTATORS FLEE THE SCENE! SLYTHERIN SEEKER WAYNE HAS JOINED WITH THE RAVENCLAW TEAM; BOTH QUIDDITCH TEAMS ARE ATTACKING THE DEATH EATERS, BUT THEY CAN'T OUTRUN A CURSE! THE PLAYERS ARE BEING LEVITATED ONTO A LARGE NET, NOW ONE OF THE DEATH EATERS IS WALKING OUT TO THE FIELD. HE SEEMS VERY UNCONCERNED AS HE FIRES AN ORANGE CURSE INTO EACH OF THE HOUSE GRANDSTANDS. THE RAIN OF CURSES AND JINXES COMING FROM THE STANDS HAS STOPPED." **

"POTTER! YOU WILL SURRENDER YOURSELF TO US, OR WE WILL KILL THE STUDENTS! YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS!"

Ginny moaned, "**No, Harry!**" but Lee squeezed her hand and continued, **"QUIDDITCH REFEREE AND DADA INSTRUCTOR HARRY POTTER IS LANDING HIS BROOM AND SURRENDERING HIS WAND TO THE DEATH EATERS. HE'S BEEN STUNNED, AND THE BODIES ARE BEING PORTKEYED AWAY TO AN UNKNOWN LOCATION. NOW THE OTHER DEATH EATERS ARE LEVITATING THE STUNNED BODIES OF THEIR FELLOW CRIMINALS, AND PORTKEYING AWAY." **Lee sighed, and said, **"FOLKS, IF ANYONE CAN PULL OFF A RESCUE OF THOSE PLAYERS, HARRY'S THE ONE TO DO IT, AND HE'S RIGHT THERE WITH THEM. WHAT I'D LIKE TO KNOW IS WHY THERE ARE SO MANY DEATH EATERS STILL AROUND? WHY AREN'T THEY LOCKED UP IN AZKABAN?"**

"Very good question, Mr. Jordan," Professor McGonagall said.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 9, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch pitch, Slytherin Grandstand  
_**------------------------

The orange curse hit, and all around Lois, witches and wizards collapsed. She saw Clark lying unconscious, and let out a little shriek, running to check him. "Oh, thank God you're alive."

"I don't think it was a killing curse, or hex, or whatever they call it," Doctor Phillips said. He moved to check Clark, then started to pull his coat open. "Yellow sunlight, as I recall is what revives Mr. Kent," he murmured.

"Oh, that's right," Lois said. They both turned when they heard Sheila's voice asking, "Where are you going, missy?"

"To summon help, of course," Bellatrix said. "Please step aside."

"We have a physician here. What I'd like to know is why you seem to be the only conscious, functional witch here," Sheila observed coolly.

"Step aside, muggle. I won't ask politely again."

They both turned, as the figure on the field said, **"POTTER! YOU WILL SURRENDER YOURSELF TO US, OR WE WILL KILL THE STUDENTS! YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS!"**

"Puts a different spin on things, doesn't it?" Barbara asked. Her hand snaked out and grabbed Bellatrix' right hand, which was inching toward her pocket, while Sheila grabbed her left.

"She is, or was, a Death Eater," the pale form of Draco said, moving away from the other Slytherin ghosts. "Look, Potter's doing it. He's surrendering."

"So you're one of these inept terrorists," Lois snarled. "You're responsible for the attack on my husband, and the kidnapping of my goddaughter. If you value your life, you'll tell us what's happening."

"My niece said your clan didn't kill," Bella said as she was forced into a seat by the four, Barbara pocketing Bella's wand.

"Who said we were going to kill you?" Sheila said flatly. "As Mattie told _us_, you're the torture specialist for the Death Eaters." She moved closer, saying, "You don't need magic to inflict pain. How are _you_ at receiving it?"

There was the creak and thump of footsteps on the wooden stairs, and the Clan dropped into combat crouches, Lois restraining Bellatrix. A nervous eye peeked around the railing, asking, "Um, hallo?"

Dick moved closer, throwing knife ready, then relaxed and sat on the steps near the nervous first-year boy, sheathing the weapon. "Hallo yourself. You're one of Mattie's friends, aren't you? Charlie Adams, right?" The boy nodded, and Dick sat on one of the steps, and stuck out his hand, saying, "I'm Dick Grayson, Mattie's brother. What can we do for you?"

Charlie tentatively shook Dick's hand, saying, "You're a copper from Gotham?" Dick nodded with a smile, and Charlie continued, "Um, well, I was in the loo, and I heard all the, well, silence up here, so I thought I'd take a look." He nodded at the small group around Bella, and asked, "What's going on?"

"Miss Black over there seems to be the only functional witch here, which we find slightly suspicious. However, we can't seem to revive anyone." Dick looked at Dr. Phillips, who shook his head. "Perhaps you know a handy spell?"

"Look, I didn't take part in this!" Bellatrix said. "Merlin's balls, I was sitting in front of you!" She looked at Charlie, and said, "Use '_enervate_' on them, boy. You might start with Severus, over there."

"Does that sound right, Mr. Adams?" Dick asked gently. He nodded, and looked back at Bellatrix. Dick followed his glance, and said softly, "Don't worry about her. We've got her wand, and she'll have to get through **_us_** first to get to you. As you saw yesterday, we're moderately good when it comes to a scrap. Now let's see about getting Professor Snape up and about, shall we?"

Charlie swallowed, looked at the sprawled Potion Master, teapot shattered next to him, and pointed his wand, calling, "_enervate_!"

With a jerk, Severus Snape sat up, shaking his head and blinking. He looked around, and asked, "Mr. Grayson, what is happening?"

"The Death Eaters seem to have successfully kidnapped the students and Mr. Potter. Fortunately, Mr. Adams here was returning from the loo, and decided to investigate the silence." He shrugged, and said, "We couldn't revive you, but Mr. Adams could."

"I see," he said, tapping a long finger against his lower lip. "And what of Bellatrix?"

"She was the only conscious, functional witch after that curse, or whatever it was, struck," Dick said. "We found that slightly suspicious, and decided that she should stick around for a chat."

"Very true," Professor Snape said. He turned his obsidian gaze on Charlie Adams, who swallowed nervously. A thin smile spread across the Potion Master's face, adding, "Mr. Adams, very well done. Fifty, no… one hundred points for Hufflepuff, and I will be sure to mention this to the Headmaster and Professor Sprout. If you would please assist in reviving the other members of Slytherin, I would be grateful."

------------------------

"Bellatrix, tell us what you know," Professor Snape whispered.

The parents and relatives in the Slytherin stands gazed at her, as she said, "I was under oath! I couldn't say anything beforehand! You wouldn't dare kill me…" Bella wavered.

"It doesn't mean you won't pray for death," Dick said. "Talk! Where's my sister?"

"Wait." Professor Snape said. "We must know her information is accurate." A tiny vial appeared in his hand, as he added, "Veritaserum. A powerful truth potion."

"You know that will only kill me, Severus," Bella said.

"Who do you think developed your original potion, AND the antidote that Voldemort didn't know about?" the Professor hissed. "Drink it, Bella, or I will step away from you." She gazed at him, then at the hard faces of relatives, and held out her hand.

"Place her in a seat," Professor Snape said as Bella started to waver on her feet. "Back off, and remain calm and silent. There will be no more than two interrogators; Mr. Wayne and myself. She will not remember this. Mr. Wayne, remain calm and focused. Her inhibitions have been removed, thus her answers will tend to wander off topic a bit." Bella giggled, and the professor sat next to her, and gently asked, "Bella?"

"Sevvy? Where are we?" She looked around, and said, "Oh, the pitch. Is the game over? Did we win?"

"Yes, Bella, we won again." She squealed in excitement, and latched onto his face for a kiss. After a few seconds, he gently pried her off, and said, "Bella?"

"Why'd you stop, Sevvy? We need to CELEBRATE! I've never done it at the pitch, but there's always a first time!" She started to unfasten her robes, and he put out a hand. She clutched it in her hands and started to examine it.

"Bella? Can I ask you a question or two?" Bruce asked gently. She rolled her head, blinked, and said, "Who're you?"

"My name is Bruce, I'm a friend of …Sevvy's from the States." She smiled, and mumbled, "The more tha' merrier!" He smiled, then asked, "Bella, a little while ago, there was an attack here."

"Oh, yes. Lucius. Arrogant twit, but he turns my knees to water," she agreed, nodding. "Still got a hot body, though. Better than ol' SnakeFace." She giggled, adding "He's tha' main reason I joined up with ol' SnakeFace. A little snog after doing in some muggles always got his wand ready, if you know what I mean." She giggled again, then said, "I didn't wan' to marry ol' Rudolphus, but a permanent impotence spell took care of THAT."

Professor Snape asked, "What about the purity of blood?" She giggled, and said, "Muggles and mudbloods? Who bloody CARES? I wanted Lucius, and if he wanted to play rough, a spot of muggle-torture always got his wand ready for me. Besides, he sure wasn't getting it from my SISTER!" She giggled again, then said, "What was the question?"

"The attack? What can you tell us about it?" Bruce asked.

"Y'mean like who's in on it? Don' know all of them, I was only at one meeting, but even my sweet Lucius can't get me to torture my own kin. Y'know, I told them, if they touch ONE hair on her head, they'll answer to ME!" She nodded owlishly, and Bruce asked, "Who?"

"My niece, of course! Susquehanna! Such a pretty name." She nodded owlishly again, then added, "Oh, d'you mean who was there? Dear sweet Lucius, of course, and that rat Wormtail. Oh, and Fudgie-Wudgie, and ol' Alice-band herself."

Bruce looked blank, so Severus asked, "Do you mean Umbridge? Was there anyone else?"

"Ol' Alice-band Dolores herself! Did I hear right? Did you actually vote her out of the House?"

"You heard correctly. Was there anyone else there?"

"One'a Fudgie-Wudgie's toadies. Y'know, the tall Weasley twit, an' I saw Little Nott in the corridor. He wasn't in tha' meeting." She blinked, then added, "He always looks so sad, y'know." She grabbed Severus' hand, and said, "He needs a girlfriend. Know anyone?"

Her head was lolling, and Bruce said, "Maybe. Any idea where Lucius might have them?"

"No, I left before then. He's got a lotta places. Hell, he may just keep them there. Maybe…" she released the Professor's hand, and slumped forward, a snore issuing from her.

The professor stood, and accepted Bella's wand from Lois. "She will sleep for the rest of the day. Narcissa, please remember she will not remember her confessions of adultery. If you and your sister can escort her to the Infirmary?"

"What about that tracking crystal Mattie had over the holidays?" Selina asked.

Professor Snape shook his head, "She returned it to me earlier in the week, as I had asked her. Do you have any of your own equipment that can find her?"

"Where is Malfoy's house?" Bruce asked.

"Wiltshire, in southwest England, several hundred miles away," Callista Vector offered.

Selina shook her head. "Ours is only good for a city, about forty miles."

"What about my sons?" a large man asked.

"Mr. MacDonald, they are likely to keep all their hostages together, especially with such a small number of Death Eaters," Professor Snape said. "If we find one, we will likely find all of them. I would suggest we share what we know with the Headmaster and the Ravenclaws."

"And then we wait," one mother said.

"Yes, Mrs. Dorney. Then we wait."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 11, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary office  
_**------------------------

"Hallo? Hallo? Madame Pomfrey? Hallo?"

The door banged open, and Poppy Pomfrey hurried into her office, pulling a robe over her nightdress. She gasped, and said, "Miss Fawcett! How are you? Please, please come on through!"

Susan shook her head. "The floo's warded, ma'am. We can't, and we've got wounded." She looked like she was fighting down panic. "What do we DO, ma'am?"

"Where are you, child?"

"We… we think this is the dungeons under Malfoy Manor. We, I mean Mattie and I saw Mr. Malfoy talking to Minister Fudge from here. I mean, from the library here." She swallowed, and said, "The Cortez twins and Professor Harry, they've been tortured, and…" tears danced in her eyes.

"Where is Miss Wayne?"

"She… she went to get the others out of their cell. She's all alone, ma'am, against ten Death Eaters…"

Madame Pomfrey grinned tightly. "If anyone can handle that by themselves, I expect Miss Wayne can," she said. "All right, child. Don't move; I'm going to call Narcissa and Draco. I'll be right back." Susan nodded, and Poppy moved to the door, calling "Narcissa! Draco! Come here, please!"

Draco materialized, asking, "What can I do?"

Pomfrey spun around, "Oh, Draco! What can you tell me about the dungeons under your father's manor?"

"Is that where they are? Not much, I'm afraid. I was tortured there for a month after my OWLS weren't better than Granger's." He turned to look at Susan's head in the fire, and said, "I don't know what the password is, and the wards keep ghosts out, too." He looked up as Narcissa came in, adding, "I'll go let the Headmaster know there's contact."

------------------------

"Professor Dumbledore! Wake up, there's contact!"

Albus Dumbledore awoke in his squashy armchair next to the fire as Draco moved to rouse Professor Snape. "Draco? Please, dear boy, tell us!"

"Susan Fawcett is on Madame Pomfrey's floo. It's warded, so they can't get through, but she thinks they're in the dungeons underneath Father's manor. They… they've got injuries, sir."

"Who is injured? What else can you tell us?" Professor Snape snapped.

Draco swallowed. Even after death, Severus Snape could still intimidate him. "Professor, the Cortez twins and Potter were tortured. Wayne has gone to free the others from their cell." He swallowed again, and added, "She's alone, sir, against ten Death Eaters."

A cold smirk formed on Professor Snape's face. "Pity them, Draco. Pity your father. He does not know what he's facing."

"Sir?"

"By kidnapping Miss Wayne, your father has entered a den of wolves, Draco. By injuring her friends, he has aroused their fury. By kidnapping her teammates, he has set the Slytherin networks against him. By torturing both Potter and the Cortez twins, he has set the rest of the wizarding world against him. With the kidnapping of Miss Wayne, your father has earned the enmity of a clan of skilled, merciless manhunters who will stop at nothing to find him. Your father has literally no place to hide, Draco, on or off this planet." He smiled thinly, and added, "I have every confidence in Miss Wayne's abilities, Draco. However, please keep this conversation confidential."

A long forefinger tapped his lips in thought. "Headmaster, I will contact the Waynes and Mr. Fawcett. I would suggest an innocuous announcement for breakfast in a few hours?" Dumbledore nodded, and Professor Snape smirked, adding, "We do not wish our … guests from the Ministry and the Prophet to leap to conclusions. Draco, please continue serving as a messenger. I would request the Gray Lady to assist you. I assume Poppy did not request any potions?" The ghost shook his head, and the Potions Master departed with a swirl of black robes.

The Headmaster stood and stretched, adding "Draco, if you would be so kind as to inform the other heads that we have minimal contact? Oh, and please ask Filius to pop by when he has a moment, would you?"

------------------------

Severus whispered the password to the Wayne's suite, and found Clark staring into the fire. He looked up, and asked, "Is there any news?"

"There is, Mr. Kent. They have managed to contact the Infirmary, and we have a probable location."

"LOIS! BRUCE! SELINA! THERE'S NEWS!" Clark called. He moved next to the Potions Master, and gripping his arms, asked, "What about Mattie?"

There was a strangled croak, and Clark released Severus, with a muttered, "Sorry." The Clan spilled out into the common room, and Clark repeated, "There's news!"

Severus rubbed his arms, and said, "We just received a firecall from Miss Fawcett of Ravenclaw. They are apparently being held in the dungeons under Malfoy Manor. They are alive, although the Cortez twins and Potter have been tortured. Miss Wayne has gone off to free the others."

"I'm on my way," Clark said.

"Wait, Clark." Lois said. "You need an escort."

"Do you know where Malfoy Manor is?" Severus asked.

"Wiltshire, right? I'll find it."

"Clark, these are wizards. You need an escort," Lois insisted. She turned to Severus, and asked, "Do you know where it is? Can you go with Clark?"

"I do, but why would Mr. Kent need an escort?"

"I'm … somewhat vulnerable to magic," Clark confessed. "Can you go with me? I'll handle the physical problems, if you can handle the magic…"

Severus gazed at him, then nodded. Dick opened the windows as Clark said, "Hold on tight, now," and shot out the window with the Potion Master.

------------------------

The landscape was a gray blur, when Severus managed to gasp out, "Where are we?"

"Two hundred miles over Europe. Take a look around, you're likely the first wizard in orbit." Clark grinned, and added, "I like to get the big picture."

"Oh, my," Severus said. "Can Miss Wayne do this?"

"Regrettably, no. Aside from a cousin, I'm the last of my bloodline. Are you ready?" Severus nodded, and Clark said, "Here we go, now, and tilted over into a dive.

"A bit to the southeast," Severus said, then "Slow down, please. Over there to the south, just past that grove of oak trees." They touched down, and they walked toward the entrance, Severus pulling his wand out as Clark tried the door, pulling back with an 'Oww!'.

Frustrated, Clark punched the door, only to have it knock him back. He shook his head, then said, "I hear them. I'll be over here." He walked near the building, then removed his glasses, gazing at the ground. With a hiss, the ground started to disappear.

"What are you doing?"

"Digging a hole," Clark looked at Severus, then returned to it, asking, "How are you doing?" Clouds of vaporized earth and vegetation rose into the air.

"The wards will need to be weakened," Severus admitted as he watched. A triangular pit, thirty feet across at the base and forty feet deep now existed next to the manor's stone walls. Clark hopped into the pit, fusing the dirt walls into glass, then turning his gaze on the bedrock he stood on. It turned red and started to bubble and steam in the January cold. Clark scooped out a double handful of molten rock, and started to shape it into a ball. "What are you doing?" he asked Clark.

"Weakening the wards," Clark answered as he blew on the rock to cool it. He replaced his glasses, asking, "If you weaken the structure, I would think it would weaken the wards."

"It will. How do you intend to do so?"

"Since I can't make a direct attack, I'll have to make an indirect one." Clark tossed his rock ball in his hand, and grinned at Severus. "Don't enter the pit, and I'll be making a bit of noise. Keep trying the wards until they break. Ready?" Severus nodded, and Clark rose a bit in the air, hefting his rock, then throwing it at the wall. **THOOM! **Clark caught the ball, then continued to throw it at the wall, alternating between left and right. **THOOM! THOOM!** **THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! **The walls of the dungeon were cracking and crumbling under the assault, and above, one of the manor walls collapsed, bringing down part of the building. Clark continued; **THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! THOOM!**

Severus called, "That's got it!" and Clark joined him, his glowing ball of rock in his hand. The professor held up his hand, and said, "I will go in after you, but I will be invisible." Clark nodded, and pulled open the door as Severus cast the spell on himself.

------------------------

"Mattie? Mattie Wayne?" Clark called.

"In here, sir!" Ian called, and Clark hurried over, scooping his goddaughter into a hug and tossing the glowing ball of rock onto the floor, where it buried itself. "Uncle Clark!" she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Ian blinked, and said, "Sir, what was that?"

Clark looked up, "Oh, I was playing handball with that. Did you hear me?"

Ian blanched, saying, "Sir, we thought the wall was going to cave in on us!"

Clark blushed, "Oh, sorry. I was trying to reach you. Did I come close?"

"Come see, sir," Ian replied. They wandered down the corridor, Clark carrying Mattie, and confronted the heavy wooden door to the cell. Ian struggled with the locking bar, and Clark cleared his throat, putting Mattie down. Ian stepped back, and Uncle Clark simply twisted the bar, shoving the door into the room in the process. He leaned it against one wall as we looked.

Huge cracks ran along the rear wall of the cell, which bulged alarmingly in. Mattie said, "Oh, the wands!" and ran to get the box of leftover wands.

"Here's yours, lil' sis," Ian said. Clark picked one from the box, then dropped it with an 'Oww!' as Mattie accepted her silver wand back.

Clark asked her, "Shall we get back to Hogwarts? Your parents are worried." She nodded, as Clark said, "Thank you for keeping an eye out for Mattie, Mr. MacDonald. I am in your debt."

"My pleasure, Mr. Kent. Will you return with us?"

"Thank you, no. I've got other arrangements." Mattie took his hand, and they headed up the corridor.

------------------------

Professor Snape appeared, and Mattie let out a sigh of relief. Clark looked at her, and she said, "I was worried about you're having magical backup, Uncle Clark."

"Indeed, Miss Wayne," he said. "I have looked in on the library, the students and Madame Pomfrey are proceeding satisfactorily. I will need to return to brew potions for her use. Is your business here concluded?"

Clark looked at Mattie, and said, "It is now. Ready to go, munchkin?"

"Uncle Clark!" Mattie giggled as he picked her up. Wrapping an arm around the Potion Master, he took off.

------------------------

With a sonic boom, Clark appeared over Inverness, slowing as he shot through the still-open window in the Wayne suite, gently dropping to the carpet. The Clan exploded off their chairs, engulfing them in a group hug. Severus extracted himself, but not before Bruce laid a hand on his shoulder, saying, "Thank you, Professor. We are in your debt."

"This would have turned out much differently without your daughter. Perhaps we are in each other's debt, Mr. Wayne. If you will excuse me, I need to brew potions for Madame Pomfrey." He added, "Miss Wayne, I am sure Madame Pomfrey would like to examine you. When you are ready, please come to the Infirmary."

"I'll join you, Mattie," Dr. Phillips said with a glance. "I'm sure Ms. Pomfrey can use a hand, and we could all use a bite to eat."

Selina released her daughter, and then said, "Join us for breakfast when you can, then." She looked at Professor Snape, and said, "Thank you again, Professor."

------------------------

"Mattie!" Harry Spencer called outside the Infirmary. "My Gran was listening to the game on the Wireless, and she came by to see if she could help. Mattie Wayne, this is my Gran, Elizabeth Windsor."

Gran said, "Miss Wayne, I'm so glad to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

Lois blinked, and said, "Excuse me, but are you…"

"Hufflepuff, 1945," Lois blinked again, and Gran continued, "I brought along my personal physician, Dr. Liam to see if we might be of any assistance."

Mattie said, "Two of my friends and Professor Harry were tortured by…"

Gran patted Mattie on the shoulder, and said, "Ms. Lane, I wish to meet with you and your husband later. I am MOST distressed by this, and I would like to discuss this with you and Mr. Lovegood." She smiled thinly, and said, "I will not stand for having schoolchildren tortured while they are guests in my home. Now then, I believe the Headmaster wishes to see us, Ms. Lane. Miss Wayne, please join us."

Bruce waved this off, "You were not responsible, ma'am. Thank you for coming." Gran nodded, and Bruce continued, "May I introduce my wife Selina, my son Dick and his wife Barbara, and Mattie's godparents Dr. Phillips, Sheila Hawking, Lois Lane and her husband, Clark Kent." Hands were shook, and everyone resumed the walk to the Infirmary as they chatted.

------------------------

Professor Vector stood outside the Infirmary, blocking access to the parents. She saw the group approaching, and called, "No visitors! The Headmaster will be making an announcement at lunch."

"Doctors, why don't you see what you can do to help, and we'll meet in the Great Hall?" Gran said.


	15. Classes, Week Twenty One, First Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**15 - Classes, Week Twenty One, First Year  
**------------------------  
**_Monday, January 11, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
_**------------------------

Gran and I were not allowed in to see Professor Harry or the Cortez twins, but Susan Fawcett said as she was leaving that they were resting comfortably. She also wondered how I had gotten back to school, but I simply said that I had come back with some of my Clan. Gran cocked an eye at me, but I simply smiled as Gran said, "Watch out for the trick step, there."

I wondered how Professor Dumbledore beat us down to the Great Hall, when we had left him in his office. I shrugged, and joined the Slytherin table for lunch, while Susan and Gran left for the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables, respectively. Regardless, the Headmaster stood, tapping on his goblet with his knife. The room quieted, and he said, "Welcome back to all of you. I will be addressing you once we are all settled, but for now I have a few announcements." He looked us over, and said, "Firstly, the most difficult request I have to make is for those members of the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Quidditch teams **_not_** to discuss their experiences with your friends. This is necessary as we will be sitting down with you to record them for legal reasons." There was some discussion about this, but he continued, "Secondly, as you may be aware, there were three injuries, but fortunately, no deaths. However, since one of the injured is Professor Potter, second year defense class this afternoon is canceled. We will be having a substitute instructor in a day or so." He smiled at the groans, and said, "The experts suggest that getting back to a routine is best, and we are a school, after all."

"Well, munchkin, that means we need to get back to Gotham," Dick said. "You'll be all right?"

"I think so, brother mine," I admitted with a grin. "I've got seventy or so _other_ big brothers and sisters to look out for me."

Lois' cell phone rang, and she flipped it open, saying, "Lois Lane. Oh, hello Chief. Yes, I've met her, we both have. Sorry, no, can't tell you. Because she asked us not to. All right, Chief, I'll tell Clark. Right, thanks. Bye." She looked at us, and said, "Clark, you go home, I'm on special assignment for Gran, and Perry is not particularly happy about it. Don't let him badger anything out of you. Mattie, he wishes you a speedy recovery." I grinned, and she echoed it, asking, "Can I borrow your laptop?"

------------------------

"Ms. Lane?" Lois looked up, and Ginny smiled and said, "I'd like you to meet my mum and dad. You wrote that article in the Common Room?"

Lois looked at me, and I mouthed "Christmas article". She smiled, and said, "Please, sit down. What can I do for you?"

"Well, you're a writer for an American paper, and we were thinking we could help. Dad works at the Ministry, and Mum knows, well, _lots_ of people," Ginny said.

"I see. I was thinking about a small article or two for Mr. Lovegood. Professional courtesy and all," Lois said. "I don't know what the British law is on this, but in the States, what you tell me as a journalist is considered confidential. I will not reveal your names, and the courts have held this up repeatedly." She held up her hand, and repeated, "I don't know what British wizarding law is. Emma has written her mum, who's a solicitor, to ask. Therefore, don't tell me anything now that can't be verified elsewhere, or that you wouldn't want your name attached to."

"I see," Molly Weasley said. She turned to look at me, and added, "Mattie, Madame Pomfrey would like to look you over." Mom nodded with a smile, and I excused myself from the table, joining Sprink and the others outside.

------------------------

The six of us tiptoed into the Infirmary, and Madame Pomfrey moved to intercept us. She glowered, and then said softly, "You're here to see the twins?" We nodded, and she added, "They're in the last two beds on the left. Don't have anything to do with the …" her mouth twisted in distaste, "… _persons_ on the right. Miss Wayne, you come with me."

"Is that Pettigrew?" Amanda asked.

Pomfrey nodded. "He's got a broken back, and is shackled to the bed. If he tries to turn into a rat, there are … measures … in place to prevent that." I looked, and saw a dozen cats sitting or lying on or around his bed, including my own Dynamo. All gazed at him with unblinking cat-stares. His silver hand had been removed, and a short chain led to his wrist from the bed frame. He shifted his head to look at us, and the cats hissed in warning.

"Extra chairs are at the end of the row," Pomfrey added. "Miss Wayne, did you perchance throw something at Mr. Pettigrew?" I nodded, and she pulled it out of a pocket. "What is it? I've never seen this material before."

I took it, and said, "It's a throwing knife, made of carbon fiber." Pomfrey and Amanda blinked, and I added, "Think of it as a diamond knife." I flipped it in my hand, and then asked, "Can I have it back?" Amanda motioned, and I passed it to her.

"I think it best I retain it for now, until the legal matters are resolved with Mr. Pettigrew," Pomfrey said. Amanda handed it back to her, sucking on a cut finger. Pomfrey waved her wand over the cut, adding, "It was half an inch from his liver when I removed it. You have others?"

With a twitch, I had one in my hand, ready to throw. I smiled, and added, "I just hate to break up the set." I stowed it, and smiled again, and Pomfrey shuddered, motioning them toward the twins as I followed her into an examination room.

I hopped up on an examination table. Uncle Doc joined us and took my pulse and blood pressure as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand over me. After a few minutes consultation, Uncle Doc asked, "Any complaints, kiddo?"

"Aside from my knife?" I shook my head, and he smiled at me, raised an eyebrow at Madame Pomfrey, then said, "Go on, join your friends. You're fine, and I'll tell your folks that."

"Thanks. They were down in the Great Hall," I said.

"Hey, there," Arthur said, as I sat down on the end of a bed. "How you guys feeling?" he asked the twins.

"Better," one said, and the other said, "Bored." They chorused, "When can we get out of here?"

Sprink put down the fresh uniforms she was carrying as Andrew said, "Oi, wait until tomorrow at least," as he plopped their textbooks down. "That way you can miss Binn's lecture."

"True," one said. "Hey, what happened to our brooms?"

I turned to look as Andrew said, "Yours were recovered by Professor Flitwick, and Sprink's by Professor Snape." He took a breath, and said, "Mattie, I don't think yours survived. After you were stunned, it flew directly into the stands." I winced, and he hastily added, "By the looks of things, you were going rather fast, and it is stone there. You only fell about fifteen feet onto the grass, though."

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, January 12, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!"

The usual storm of owls came in, to Lois' delight. She was somewhat surprised to see several of them wheel and land in front of her. Several marched up to her, and thrust out their legs, with red envelopes tied to them.

"Howlers!" Sprink and Emma cried, and ducked under the table.

"What is…" Lois began, but Terry (who was safely out of range) said, "Open the red ones straight away, ma'am!" She shrugged, and opened the first one (the owl immediately taking off), the envelope screaming at her, "HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT LUCIUS MALFOY! HE HAS BEEN AN UPSTANDING MEMBER…" I reached out and batted it away, and it exploded in a storm of confetti. Someone called, "Mattie, the Quibbler!" and tossed it to me.

Terry had a subscription to the Prophet, so he held out the front page to Lois. "This will make you feel better, ma'am. Notice what's NOT on the front page."

"Ministry announces new trade agreements…" Lois read, flipping through the paper. "Not a thing… oh, here's something on page six below the fold. 'Education Secretary Percy Weasley announces the start of a preliminary investigation into the alleged… ALLEGED? Death Eater attack on Hogwarts.'" She looked up, and said, "They call THAT journalism? ONE sentence?"

"It's a Ministry paper, ma'am, I'm surprised it has that much," Terry said. "Now look at the Quibbler."

"Oh, yes, that's much better!" Lois purred.

**ATTACK ON HOGWARTS**!

The headline screamed in large letters. Below it, Lois' article began:

_Lois Lane (Metropolis Daily Planet)  
__Exclusive for The Quibbler _

_Hogwarts - On January ninth, a beautiful Saturday morning was rocked when the remaining forces of the deceased Dark Lord Voldemort attacked the school's Quidditch pitch while the game was ongoing. Led by Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, and assisted by Peter Pettigrew, they succeeded in kidnapping all twenty-eight Slytherin and Ravenclaw Quidditch players, and portkeying them to an unknown destination. _

_Malfoy demanded the immediate surrender of Quidditch referee and Defense instructor Harry Potter, threatening the immediate torture and death of the kidnapped students, unless Potter accompanied him. Concerned for his student's welfare, Potter did so, surrendering his wand to Malfoy, and was portkeyed away. _

_The eyewitness accounts, and the live Wizarding Wireless broadcast during the game, were all the information anxious parents and concerned citizens had. Working together, the students (some as young as ten years old), managed to break out of their spell-induced stupor, gathered intelligence on Malfoy's plans and his conspiracies with senior Ministry officials, break out of their cell, and capture several Death Eaters. _

_Problems remained, in that Pettigrew had tortured two students as well as Professor Potter at Malfoy's orders. These two students (identities withheld for their protection), as well as others, Malfoy intended to deliver dead to Hogwarts as 'examples'. _

_Communication was established with Hogwarts' Infirmary by floo, however Malfoy's wards did not permit transit until a Death Eater was persuaded to give the password. All three of Malfoy's victims are expected to make a full recovery. _

_Documents recovered by students from Malfoy's dungeons reveal an extensive pattern of bribery and corruption on the part of Ministry officials. In addition, a large volume of Dark publications and materials were recovered and are being analyzed. Tests on wands recovered from the dungeons reveal numerous instances of Dark curses, including the Unforgivables. _

_Questions to the Ministry must include why usage of these Dark curses were dismissed by the Ministry, instead of the mandated life terms. Questions must also include why Malfoy and other Death Eaters were released, as well as possible corruption among Ministry officials, including… _

"Ah, that's better," Lois purred. "Now what I need is…"

"Excuse me, Ms. Lane?" Lois nodded, and Narcissa sat down, nodding at the newspaper Lois held. "I was married to Lucius Malfoy for almost twenty years. Can we talk?"

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 13, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Third floor charms corridor  
_**------------------------

"Hey, guys! Wait up!" I turned, and saw the Cortez twins hurrying toward us. We waited on the third floor as they stopped, panting slightly. One of the twins asked, "Have you Slythies talked about finishing the game?"

"No, we haven't," Sprink said, juggling her books. "Of course, we were ahead before…"

"So what DID happen to you lot?" Amanda asked. "Everyone's dying of curiosity."

Sprink opened her mouth, but I kicked her shin. Arthur opened the classroom door, and added, "I'd like to know that too. Charlie came in the common room and said Snape had awarded him a hundred points, but we haven't been able to find out for what." He winked at Sprink and me, and asked, "Can we borrow your rack?"

"What's this about a rack?" Professor Flitwick asked.

"We were asking about Professor Snape awarding Charlie a hundred points, sir, but he won't talk about it," Amanda replied.

"Ah, yes. Severus mentioned it at the staff meeting this morning. Very good, Mr. Adams, very good indeed!" The bell rang, and the tiny professor clapped his hands, calling, "Take your seats, please! We're going to review our warming charms!"

------------------------  
**_Thursday, January 14, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, Mr. Hat!" I said as I entered the office. I could see the Headmaster on his knees, making a firecall.

"Good morning, Miss Wayne!" Alastair said. "Did you have a Happy Christmas?"

"Marvelous, and yours?" I blinked, then remembered who I was talking to. "I'm sorry. You must have a bit of a boring life, sitting on a shelf all the time. What do you do for the Holidays?"

"Oh, I celebrate them with Minerva, Albus and Abe." The hat seemed to settle down for a long gossip session as I sat down to listen. "While I don't get out and about as much as when I rode on top of Gryffindor's head, I get to hear the most fascinating things. There are advantages to being thought of nothing more than a dirty bit of headgear. Why, Albus and Minerva alone, for the last few Christmases, have been…"

"Thank you very much, Alastair," the Headmaster said. His eyes twinkled, and he added, "My personal life shan't be bandied about the school by a randy old bit of felt. Why, if Minerva found out, she'd be after you with a _'ravelous sticus'_ charm!"

"Albus, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud! YOU get to be out and about. I sit here and talk to the portraits. Why, do you know how long it's been since I've seen a decent Quidditch game? 1463! Hufflepuff absolutely _flattened_ Gryffindor!" The hat sighed, and added, "While the portraits tell you quite a bit, you don't get the more…_juicy_… bits that I hear. Why, I heard the most interesting things about Pomona the other day…"

"THANK you, Alastair," the Headmaster frowned, but the twinkle was still in his eyes. An idea came to me, but I slipped my poker face on as the Headmaster looked at me. He gave me a second look, his twinkling blue eyes inspecting my green ones. I tried to look innocent, but he snorted and waved me to my usual chair by the fire.

"Now then, Miss Wayne," Professor Dumbledore said. "I understand that your godmother is a solicitor in the United States?" I nodded, and he added, "Putting on my Wizengamot hat, I would suggest that she be licensed to practice Wizarding law as soon as practicable. While Miss Dobb's mother is a capable solicitor, her presence will be a benefit, especially with her breadth of experience." I started to say something, and he raised his hand. "I cannot say more. I would suggest you convey my… suggestion as quickly as possible." I nodded, and he added, "We will assist her as much as possible. I am aware she is a muggle, however, both Professor Snape and I think this would be a wise move."

I nodded, and said, "I'll send an email as soon as I leave here, professor. If I can ask, what is being done for Professor Harry and the twins? Any sort of counseling?"

"Counseling? Do you mean psychological assistance?" I nodded, and he said, "I do not know. I will discuss this with Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey. Why do you ask?"

"In Charms class yesterday, they didn't seem quite… themselves," I said. "It's tough to pin down, and it's not really my place to say, but they're my friends, and, well…" I looked down, and fiddled with the hem of my skirt.

"You want to help," he inserted. I nodded, and he smiled gently. "We will pursue this. Now, then on to other matters. This you may share with your housemates. We have agreed to reschedule the interrupted game for the 27th of March. The game will resume at the 103rd minute, which is just after you had performed your feint. The score will be reset to 120-80 in Slytherin's favour, and I wish both teams the best of luck."

I grinned, and he smiled, saying, "On to today's lesson. Today, I want you to try and provide a false image to me." I raised my eyebrow, and he said, "Normally, I receive a mental image of a stone wall when I try to read your mind. What I would like you to do is to provide me with a false image when I cast '_legilimens'_. The idea is to misdirect the attack, not simply to block it. Ready?" I nodded, and he said, "_Legilimens_!"

------------------------

_To: All Slytherin Quidditch  
__From: Mattie Wayne  
__Subject: Talk with Professor Dumbledore _

_Hi, all!_

_As you may remember, I'm taking Occlumancy lessons with Professor Dumbledore on Thursday mornings. Today's proved to be an interesting conversation, as he suggested that my godmother be licensed to practice Magical law here as well as in the States. If you have solicitors in your Clans, it may be worthwhile to get in touch with them as well. Since he said this (unofficially) as a member of the Wizengamot… well, draw your own conclusions. I'll pass this on to the Cortez twins (Ravenclaw's beaters) as well. _

_Secondly, we will be resuming our interrupted __arse-kicking of said Ravenclaw team. The match is scheduled for March 27th, the game is restarted at the 103rd minute at the 120-80 score. _

_Lastly, what are the Quidditch regulations regarding a team mascot? I happen to know someone who hasn't seen a good game since 1463…_

_Mattie _

_To: Roshawn Cortez, Shaundra Cortez  
__From: Mattie Wayne  
__Subject: Talk with Professor Dumbledore_

_Hey, there! _

_As you may remember, I'm taking Occlumancy lessons with Professor Dumbledore on Thursday mornings. Today's proved to be an interesting conversation, as he suggested that my godmother be licensed to practice Magical law here as well as in the States. If you can refer to a solicitor (I think Professor Harry's is a Ravenclaw.), in your house, it may be worthwhile to get in touch. Since he said this (unofficially) as a member of the Wizengamot… well, draw your own conclusions. I've passed this on to the Slytherin teams; you may want to pass it on to the Ravenclaw team as well. _

_Secondly, we will be resuming our interrupted __arse-kicking of your poor, pitiful Ravenclaw team. The match is scheduled for March 27th, the game is restarted at the 103rd minute at the 120-80 score. _

_That snitch is MINE!_

_Mattie_

_To: Aunt Sheila  
__CC: Dad, Mom, Uncle Clark  
__From: Mattie Wayne  
__Subject: Talk with Professor Dumbledore _

_Hi, all!_

_In today's class with Professor Dumbledore, he unofficially put his Wizengamot hat on and suggested that Aunt Sheila be licensed to practice before the Magical Bar as soon as possible. He wouldn't elaborate, but I would assume it has something to do with the Death Eaters. _

_Also, the interrupted Quidditch game is rescheduled for March 27th. I'll tell Aunt Lois, who's out and about today with Mrs. Weasley. Her articles are kicking up a bit of a fuss, needless to say! (I've saved copies for you, Uncle Clark!)_

_Love to all,_

_Mattie_

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 15, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Defense class  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, everyone!" Professor Harry said as we took our seats. "I think we can all agree that this has been an … _interesting_ week." He took off his robes, throwing them over a chair like he usually did as the class murmured agreement. "Now then, I know we'd all like to talk about what happened last Saturday. So would I, but until the Headmaster gives us the go-ahead to do so, we've got to keep mum."

There was some grumbling, and he said, "On that note, I'd like to see the Cortez twins, Sprink and Mattie for a minute after class." I glanced at the others, and they looked as puzzled as I was. Professor Harry resumed, "Now then, I've talked to Ginny and Abby Michaels about what happened in the Commentator's booth, but what about you lot? Anyone want to share what happened on Saturday? Yes, Amanda? What happened in the Gryffindor stands?"

------------------------

"You wanted to see us, Professor?" Sprink asked.

"Yes, I did. Since it's well known that all four of you play Quidditch, I felt it was best this way." He cast a privacy spell, and continued, "I'm talking to all the Quidditch players on both teams. This way, Roshawn and Shaundra aren't singled out." He looked at them, and said gently, "I've been the recipient of the Cruciatus myself, as has Professor Snape. We KNOW what it feels like, while people like Professor Flitwick or Madame Pomfrey don't. If you need to talk, scream, cry or whatever, please let us know."

"Thank you, Professor. Professor Snape said the same thing yesterday. He even gave us some dreamless sleep potion if we need it," one said. The other twin said, "I want to learn to fight." She looked at her twin, and said, "I won't be taken like that again. Mattie, will you help?"

"Whenever and wherever you want, if Madame Pomfrey says you can," I told them. They nodded, and I added, "You have to be in shape, too. Damn, I wish there was a decent gym here!"

"Use the Hufflepuff gym," Professor Harry said. I raised an eyebrow, and he said, "I don't think it's quite ready yet, and Professor Sprout let it slip at Wednesday's staff meeting. It's close to their common room, I think. I'll ask her at lunch." He grinned, and said, "I'd like to learn a few things from you myself, Miss Wayne."

"Um, guys, I'm not a trained sensei," I warned. "I'll do my best, though."

"That's what I said when I started the DA in my fifth year. You'll do fine, Miss Wayne."

------------------------

The twins sat down on either side of Charlie, while Sprink and I double-teamed Arthur. I smiled sweetly, and said, "Hi, guys! Mind if we join you?"

Charlie swallowed, and pointing past Arthur, said, "Um, girls? This is the Hufflepuff table. Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables are over there."

Sprink looked hurt, "We can't sit with our friends? You blokes have sat at our table."

One of the twins said, "Pass the Shepherd's pie, please," she spooned some out onto her plate, and passed it to her sister, who passed her the peas, in front of Charlie. Sprink added a bit of sugar and milk to her tea, and stirred it.

"What do you want?" Arthur asked.

"The milk, please?" I asked, taking some peas for my own plate.

"You lot are up to something," Charlie said.

"Lunch, at the moment," one of the twins said. "After that, well, we've got a free period this afternoon. We could do homework, I suppose," the other twin agreed. "Unless you've got a better suggestion," the first said, pouring a cup of coffee. "Personally, I'm kind of home worked out at the moment," she added.

"How true," Sprink added. "Death Eaters and all, takes the mickey right out of a History essay, wouldn't you say?"

"Very true, mate, very true," I nodded. I leaned on Arthur's shoulder, followed by Sprink on the other side, and asked, "Right now, I'm a little … frustrated, and I'm looking to hit something, know what I mean?" Arthur gulped as his ears reddened.

One twin leaned on Charlie's shoulder, and crooned, "Like a speed bag," her sister leaned on the other shoulder, and whispered, "Or a punching bag," they chorused, "Know where we can find them?"

"They've found out about the gym, mates," Charlie said.

"EXCELLENT!" we chorused. "Where is it, Arthur, dear?" I whispered in his ear.

He eyed me, and said, "We were TRYING to keep it a secret. It's not ready yet, and you really don't do sultry well, Mattie," I pouted, while the girls at the Hufflepuff table giggled. "Dammit, what do you have to do around here to keep a secret? Kill someone?" Arthur asked.

"Why, we wouldn't keep secrets from YOU, Arthur," Sprink crooned. "Well, at least not IMPORTANT things. Just little, tiny unimportant things like Quidditch that you don't need to worry about."

"That's right, Arthur," I agreed with a soft voice, "You worry about all the important things; we'll handle the details like Quidditch."

"I'd still like to know how you lot found out about it," Charlie said.

"Our spies are everywhere…" Sprink said in a spooky voice

"For a live one, you've got that down very well, Miss Tonks," the Fat Friar complemented with a smile as he rose through the table to his waist.

"Why, thank you, Friar," Sprink said. "Um, you're cooling the tea."

"I'm sorry!" the Friar said as he moved. He mostly centered himself on the milk and pumpkin juice pitchers, adding, "Not even the Ravenclaw and Slytherin ghosts are talking! I'd like to know just as much as anyone what happened!"

Sprink tapped her wand on her tea, warming it, and said, "Sorry. I gave my statement in the Headmaster's office, but until he says we can…" She sipped her tea, and mentioned, "First time I've used a pensieve. Bloody strange things, they are." I nodded, as did the Cortez twins.

"What's a pensieve?" Charlie asked.

"It's a shallow stone basin, about the size of this plate and a couple inches deep, with runes around the edge." Sprink said, tapping her dinner plate. "You extract the memory you want with your wand, and drop it in, then tap it with your wand to watch it."

"Something else to avoid," Arthur muttered.

"Why?" I asked Arthur, as I picked up a butter knife. "If someone's going to try to read your mind, they'll use a spell, not something passive like a pensieve." I buttered a roll, adding, "It requires your co-operation. When we gave our statements, we recalled the memories of what happened, and then Professor Dumbledore and Madame Bones reviewed them, and asked questions." I shrugged, took a bite, and then added, "It's a magical version of videotape."

"What I think is nobody's business but mine," Arthur replied.

"Normally, I'd agree with you," I told him. "However, this is a criminal case, and we're witnesses. This is just another form of testimony, one that's more accurate. This way, the court sees what we saw. Nobody's rummaging through your brain."

"It's a matter of principle, Mattie," Arthur argued. "You take Occlumancy lessons, you should get this."

"Would you rather a wanker like Lucius Malfoy get off because you refused to testify?" Sprink asked, waving her teacup and spilling a bit. "He's used the Unforgivables! He's tortured and killed people! Don't you want to put him in Azkaban?"

"I wasn't there Sprink, so I can't testify," Arthur said as he stood up. "So it doesn't matter what I want. But just for the record, I don't want Malfoy in Azkaban, because he's already managed to get out of there once." He walked away with a sour expression on his face.

"Arthur," I said rising before Charlie put out a hand to restrain me.

"You know how moody he gets," he said quietly. "Just let him go for now."

I sat back down and it was a moment before the conversation started back up, one of the Hufflepuffs asking, "Does the memory thing hurt?"

I shook my head and demonstrated, extracting a memory with my wand, and then putting it back. "There's a bit of an itchy feeling where it comes out. Can ghosts use a pensieve, Friar?" I asked.

"I've no idea, Miss Wayne. I don't think it's ever been tried," he admitted.

"Might make an interesting experiment," I mentioned.

"A bit painful, too," he added. "Wands feel very hot to ghosts."

------------------------

"So… how do you get to this super-secret gym?" one of the twins asked Charlie.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked. "It's not ready for use yet. The original plan was to have it ready after Easter break. There are only six guys and two girls working on it."

The twins nodded, and Charlie continued, "We've salvaged the wood off the bleachers to make benches for the locker rooms, but the lockers are no good, we've written them off. The cold water and drains are pretty good, but the hot water for the sinks and showers need a plumber to fix. Actually, Myrtle was a help, telling us which drains were plugged. Only one loo on each side works, but the fixtures just need a bit of work. There's some exercise equipment that we've got working, and there's a bench and weights from the 1940's in there."

"What kind of repair equipment do you have?" I asked. "You know; a plumber's torch and wrenches, parts, that kind of thing? Dad taught me how to sweat copper pipe."

"Mattie, your dad's a billionaire. Why don't you use the Yellow Pages?" one of the twins asked. Sprink looked confused, so the other said, "It's a business directory. You can look through it and call a plumber if you need one."

"The last time we did, we ended up missing stuff," I answered. "We never did get one small Picasso back. It's the same thing when we have a party or something, we have to use bonded caterers, and even then stuff gets stolen." I shrugged, and said, "Price of doing business. What are you gonna do, a cavity search on each waiter to find a missing fork?"

The twins giggled, and Charlie continued, "We've got a hardwood floor down, and basketball and volleyball laid out on it. Only one backboard and basket, though. The space where we took out the bleachers is about twenty feet wide by a hundred feet long. We had about two-thirds of that for the weights and machines, and the other for aerobics. Could you teach martial arts, Mattie?"

I took a sip of coffee, and thought about it. "I've taught before, it's necessary to advance to second and third degree black belt. Is the room padded?" Charlie nodded, and I said, "All right. Narcissa or Madame Pomfrey must clear people medically, and I want a floo connection to the Infirmary." I looked at Charlie, and added, "When I taught martial arts at my old school, it was like the DA. There are no houses or faculty, just the sensei and students."

------------------------

I heard a tapping, and looked to the head table. The headmaster was tapping on his goblet, and the dull roar of conversation died down. He smiled, and said, "I would just like to mention that the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Quidditch teams may now talk about their experiences. Please do not force someone to talk that does not wish to. As you know, the rematch between Ravenclaw and Slytherin is scheduled for March 27, and the Hufflepuff and Slytherin match is moved back a week, to April 24, to accommodate the hearing for the captured Death Eaters. Thank you."

There was an immediate roar of conversation, and the Hufflepuffs leaned close, Charlie asking, "What happened?"

"Mattie had just feinted, and we had possession, going toward the goal…" Sprink started.

"Doing that damned Ballistic of theirs again," one of the twins interrupted.

Abby Michaels, the Hufflepuff captain nodded, "We think we've got a counter for it."

Sprink smirked and continued, "Anyway, someone said that the players were being stunned, and we saw the Dark Mark, so Mattie went up to join the Ravenclaws, so we could do a coordinated attack."

"That's when you threw the knife at Pettigrew?" one of the twins asked me. I nodded, and the other continued, "We were stunned, and portkeyed somewhere. We woke up in a stone cell, bound and without our wands."

"Not for long!" Sprink added. "Mattie still had hers, and she started to cut everyone loose."

"How did you keep your wand?" Abby asked me.

Sprink smirked, and I sighed as I undid my left sleeve. "Spell-shielded wand holster," I said. "Malfoy used _accio_ on the wands, and didn't bother to count them, or search us. He really is an incompetent terrorist."

The twins grinned, and they took up the narrative. "So anyway, Mattie cuts herself loose, hands her wand to Ian, and starts to cut everyone loose, giving us these really nasty knives to help." The other twin said, "I want a set of them. Where did you get them?"

"Weaponsmith in Gotham," I replied. "They're expensive, though, and you really need to know how to fight with a knife."

"Can I see one?" an older Hufflepuff leaned over to ask. I pulled the sheathed knife from my left boot and handed it to him. He pulled the knife out, and whistled at it, asking, "What's it made of?"

"Carbon, just like a diamond," I said. "Come on, guys, I didn't do anything special."

The twins snorted, and Sprink said, "Right. Who snuck through the air vent? Who spied on the Death Eaters? Who found Professor Harry?"

I opened my mouth, and one of the twins added, "Who got our wands back, who freed the rest, and who captured all the Death Eaters?"

"Come on, guys, I just helped out!" I protested.

Susan Fawcett leaned over Sprink, and said, "I was with you in the air vent, but you're the one that did everything, Mattie. Don't deny it."

"Guys, you're making me out to be some sort of storybook hero, and I'm NOT!"

"You can say that, Mattie, but don't forget, we were there," the twins argued. I glowered at them, and Susan added, "Okay, Sprink brought in Bella, but you got the rest of them."

"But… they're a bunch of incompetent terrorists! Anyone could have…"

"Maybe," Sprink said. "Maybe anyone could have. But you did." She added, "Bella's my aunt, and she wasn't involved. She didn't count. You're the one that captured Malfoy."

"Another thing you're ignoring, Mattie," Susan said. "Malfoy planned to have a Dark Revel with us." She sat on the bench, and poked me in the chest, "That means that I owe you my life and that means a Wizard's Debt. I can't speak for anyone else, but I intend to honor it."

The twins added, "We owe each of you, Mattie and Susan." The bell rang, and Abby said, "I need to get to DADA. I wonder what Professor Harry will say." I groaned, and Charlie asked, "What next?"

"Now I REALLY need to hit something," I muttered.

------------------------

"You know where our common room is?" I nodded, and Charlie continued, "Down the corridor toward the kitchens, you'll see a large tapestry of the Founders. Face Helga, say something nice about Hufflepuff House, and turn around to your left. The door will appear."

"Simple enough," I admitted. I checked my watch, and said, "I'm going to go change and meet you guys there in fifteen minutes or so."

"Wait, Mattie," Charlie said. "Why are you helping us?"

"Why, you want my secret, Slytherin motivation?" I rolled my eyes, and said, "First of all, it sounds like you guys could use a hand, and I've done my share of home repairs. Secondly, I want to use it; thirdly, if I'm going to teach martial arts, I've got to get that up to scratch. Lastly, aren't we all supposed to be working together?"

"I still don't believe you do home repairs," one of the twins said with a grin.

I snorted, "Just because we don't have battalions of servants? You were at my house over the Holidays; you saw that it's just the three of us there."

"And your family ghosts," one of the twins teased.

I grinned and nodded, and the Friar asked, "You have a family plot?"

"Yes, it's a few acres, but it just _wouldn't_ do to have Great-Aunt Eloise appear at a society ball. Muggles tend to get … upset around ghosts, for some reason," I grinned.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 16, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!"

Aunt Lois looked up with the rest of us, and saw several owls head toward her, clutching red envelopes. She chuckled, and Emma looked at her. "You don't mind howlers?"

"No, that means people are THINKING about what I write." She took the first one, the owl immediately taking off. "HOW DARE YOU SAY MINISTER FUDGE IS …" it screamed before she batted it away.

The Quibbler's headline read:

**MINISTRY BOUGHT BY  
****DEATH EATERS?**

_Lois Lane (Metropolis Daily Planet)  
__Exclusive for The Quibbler _

_London - On January eleventh, kidnapped Hogwarts students rescued themselves from the dungeons under Malfoy Manor, bringing with them a large quantity of documents. Among these were ledgers going back to 1975, detailing payoffs to a wide assortment of Ministry officials. Ministry Finance officials declined the opportunity to examine the books themselves, calling them a 'fabrication by the Minister's political opposition'. _

_Analysis of these books by two different accounting firms leads to the same conclusion: Malfoy has been buying influence from Ministry officials, including former Minister Millicent Bagnold and current Minister Cornelius Fudge. This is supported by letters to Gringott's authorizing transfers from the Malfoy vault (#366) to a list of numbered vaults, and a list, in Malfoy's hand, cross referencing those numbers to Ministry personnel (see table one) and thirty of the fifty Wizengamot members (see table two). _

_Examples of this include letters from Wizengamot members confirming meetings with Malfoy and his solicitors, withdrawal and transfer receipts from Gringott's shortly before notable court dates, including the arrest and transfer of Sirius Black to Azkaban (without trial), the arraignments of notable Death Eaters including Malfoy, Peter Pettigrew, and the Lestranges and their subsequent release with charges dismissed. _

_This new information asks the question, what will happen to the Death Eaters captured? What will happen to Pettigrew and Malfoy regarding charges and evidence of using the Cruciatus curse on students and Professor Potter during their captivity? _

_Wizards will need to review their use of familiar household products such as Butterbeer, which is owned by Malfoy through a series of shell companies (see diagram one), and support of the Ballycastle Bats Quidditch team (forty percent ownership, see diagram two). These companies provide Malfoy with seventy percent of his monthly cash flow (see chart three) of three hundred thousand galleons. The balance of his income is from real estate investments, including prime property located … _

------------------------


	16. Interlude Two

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**16 – Interlude Two, First Year  
**------------------------  
**_Monday, January 18, 1999:  
Ballycastle, Northern Ireland  
_**------------------------

"How bad is it?"

"Not good, but it could be worse," the solicitor said.

"HOW? We've been linked with … you-know-who!" the General Manager moaned.

"No, we've been linked with one person that has a 40 percent ownership. THAT person has ties to you-know-who," the solicitor said.

The marketing manager snorted, adding "That may be fine for court. We had _demonstrators_ outside this morning! How am I going to sell that?" He scrubbed his face, adding "DAMN that reporter!"

"Would we have known about this if she hadn't brought this out?" the owner asked. She sipped her tea, then slowly said, "The only thing I can see to do is to take the Bats private," looking at the accountant, she added, "Get me numbers," to the solicitor, "See how we can buy Malfoy's shares. He will probably need the cash; he has to deal with the Butterbeer problem. We'll meet again on Wednesday."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 18, 1999:  
Liverpool, Butterbeer home office  
_**------------------------

"We're screwed."

"Such a positive outlook," the accountant said sarcastically. "I thought that was my line."

The operations manager glared at him, and then said, "So far this morning, I have gotten a dozen owls from pubs wanting to return stock. They tell me that since that article came out on Saturday; their clients are not drinking Butterbeer. They do not WANT to drink Butterbeer, and those are the polite ones. You should hear my howlers."

"We can't mistreat the pub owners. They're seventy percent of our volume," the marketing manager said. "Why are we sending money to Malfoy?"

"You idiot, that's who we're contracted to send it to! Didn't you read that witch's article?" the accountant snarled. "We don't send it directly to Malfoy! We send it to the holding company, which sends it to _their_ holding company, and so forth."

"Enough!" The general manager slapped the conference table. "What can we do about this mess?"

"We are obligated to accept returns for 'poor quality' from our clients under contract," the solicitor said, taking a sip of her tea. "Once they realize that, with this bad publicity, they will do so, and under Ministry health regulations, we are obligated to replace it with fresh product at no charge or refund the cost, destroying the returned Butterbeer. We can keep up to five percent of returned stock for quality control testing, but it cannot be resold." She looked at the accountant, asking, "What is our normal return rate? What is our break-even point here?"

He scrubbed his face with his hands. "Merlin's beard! This couldn't have come at a worse time."

The general manager agreed, "I know. After finishing our plant expansion, our cash reserves are drained. Who knew Malfoy would do something stupid like this?" He sighed, adding, "Otherwise, we could sit tight and wait for this to blow over."

"Too bad that isn't what's happened," the accountant agreed. "I hate to say it, but those damned articles haven't helped us. Barring a miracle, Butterbeer will be in receivership by the end of next month." He flipped through a file of parchment, and then his quill scratched. "To answer your question, we normally have just under a tenth of one percent returned of our yearly volume. However, with our volume and margins, if our returned stock inches up to two percent, we might as well close our doors."

The solicitor added, "By law, we must satisfy our creditors in this order: the Finance ministry, our employees, our creditors, our investors, and then our Directors." She gazed around the table, and said, "How are your savings? By the time any company liquidation gets to us, we'll be on the streets. I'm going to have to pay for Emma's next year at Hogwarts soon. Thank Merlin she's not playing Quidditch." She looked at the accountant, and asked, "Peter? How are your children doing there?"

"Andrea and Beth are in fifth-year, they're worrying about their OWLs. Chris will be starting next year. I don't have the savings for his schooling. We are screwed."

"We're screwed? What about Malfoy? He's one of you Slytherins," the marketing manager sneered, and Christine Dobbs glared at him. Peter Boyle slapped the table, and stood, glaring at him, and snarled, "We're trying to save the company, and our jobs, including yours! If you don't have anything to add, you can leave, through the protesters."

The operations manager glared at the marketing wizard, and said, "Why don't we adjourn for now, and see what we can find out. We'll meet again tomorrow. Think, everyone!"

------------------------

Christine sighed and carefully looked out her window. The company's few security guards were on alert, and the local office of Magical Law Enforcement had deployed a riot squad. The mood was still ugly; an occasional curse hitting an office window. She sat down and picked up Emma's letter.

_Sunday, 17 January, 1999 _

Mum –

_I hope you're all right. I've been so worried ever since that article came out in the Quibbler yesterday, and I may have made things worse this morning. If you remember, I told you about Mattie Wayne over the Hols, and I introduced you to her and her clan before that disastrous Quidditch match. I'm sure you remember them as very friendly people, typical Yanks. Mattie's aunt is the reporter that's been writing those articles for the Quibbler (she's been staying at Hogwarts and eating with us), and I was just, well, rude to her and Mattie yesterday. I won't repeat what I said, but now I'm glad that Mattie was muggle-raised. What I said usually results in drawn wands, and that clan is one I do NOT want to get into a fight with. If Malfoy is behind this (and my housemates are convinced he is), he is SO screwed, if you'll pardon my language. _

_Fortunately for me, Mattie and her aunt either didn't recognize what I said, or ignored it, because she sat next to me in the library this morning, cast a privacy spell (A new wrinkle on that! I'll tell you about it when I see you next.), and asked what she could do to help. We went back and forth before I confessed I was worried about you, and where you worked. She got this rather distant look, then said that her clan had run into a problem, and then she asked if you were open to a little 'side job'. _

_I'm not quite sure what she means by that. She said she was going to send some 'email' back home (A muggle version of an owl. We've been getting all trained up on this new compulator network thing they've installed.), and should have an answer back tonight. I'm not quite sure how, though. Her family is all the way back in the Colonies, thousands of miles away. That's weeks away by owl. When I find out something new, I'll owl you straightaway. _

_Just so you know I haven't forgotten the manners Grandmum Lucille beat into my thick head, I formally apologized to both Mattie and her aunt Lois. They were very gracious, and told me not to worry about it. I mean, nobody gets insulted THAT much, do they? :) (That's one of the new compulator things. It's supposed to be a smile. I guess it looks like one if you tilt your head and squint.) _

_Oh, just so you know, I got a 'Acceptable' for my Potions essay assignment from the Hols, and Professor McGonagall gave me an 'Outstanding' on my Transfiguration essay. _

_Your loving daughter,_

_Emma_

Christine thought about it for a minute, then pulled a fresh sheet of parchment to her, and dipped her quill to reply.

_Monday, 18 January, 1999_

_Emma – _

_Dearest, I won't lie to you and say things are wonderful here. It's times like this when I so miss your father, but for now, it's you and I against the world. There are protestors outside, and the occasional curse hitting the building. After you-know-who's thugs killed your father, the thought of being connected to him in any way is odious. I would quit in a second, but you know as well as I that we need every knut. Don't worry about me, though. Old Mick, at the Pig and Whistle down the way said I could connect an emergency floo from my fireplace to his. I've done so, and I'll use that if I need to. _

_The information from your friend Mattie may be useful, if it's honorable. From what you've said about that clan, it seems like it would be. I really only met them at the Quidditch match, and then we were woken up by that little Hufflepuff firstie. I never did find out about that. Why was he there?_

_I agree with what you say about that clan. While you know them better than I, from their expressions while that Black woman was being interrogated, they were looking for the excuse to rip her into shreds. By the way, was that really the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange? Not that I, or any parent wouldn't feel the same way; perfectly understandable. _

_Can you check and see if there would be other parts to this 'side job'? While Walt and Lisa in our Legal office would be paid off before I would be if the company has to declare bankruptcy (yes, that's a possibility), I'd spare them a job search if possible. They would also get two weeks severance, while as a director I'm going to be lucky to get a bent knut. Could you ask about any need for accountants? I owe Peter Boyle a favor. _

_I hate to ask this, but could you check with Professor Snape and ask about financial assistance? If Butterbeer goes down, public assistance will barely keep the flat's roof over our heads. It will not pay for your fifth year. While we're not that desperate yet, the information will be useful. It's best to be prepared. _

_I'm sorry if I'm worrying you, but I've never believed in keeping bad news from you. You're fifteen, and old enough to know where we stand. _

_Keep your chin up, and remember that I'll always love you. _

_Mum _

_P.S. I'm glad you got such good grades on your essays! Study hard! _

She tied the letter to her owl's leg, and told Pisces, "Take this to Emma at Hogwarts, please, and hurry." The owl hooted, nipped her finger, and took off.

------------------------

"Post's here!"

Pisces landed in front of Emma, and hooted at her, thrusting out his leg. Her eyes widened a bit as she recognized the owl, and she untied the letter. Giving Pisces a banger, he took off, and she skimmed her mother's letter. Walking down the table, she tapped Mattie on her shoulder, quietly asking, "Excuse me. Do you think your aunt could meet my Mum about this side job of yours? Do you know if you'll need an accountant?"

Lois looked at the girl, and read the subtle signs of nervousness. She smiled, and said, "We're expecting someone tomorrow morning; would tomorrow afternoon be acceptable, about four or five? We don't know about the weather, and an accountant would be useful."

"That would be fine, ma'am. Thank you very much. I'll owl Mum straightaway."

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, January 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, an unused seventh floor classroom  
_**------------------------

With a flash, Sheila Hawking appeared inside a crystalline tube as machinery whined around her. Shaking her head, she staggered a bit, saying, "Not as bad as the moon trip. I swear; I don't know how Bruce does that all the time."

Lois chuckled, and said, "From what Clark says, the moon transport has something to do with distance and being relayed off satellites." She glanced at an indicator, and then walked past the safety line, adding, "Welcome back to Hogwarts. Cindy's got a room ready for you in our suite, so you can lie down. She's waiting for us. Also, Professor Dumbledore asked to see us when you arrived."

"Great. Clark dropped off your laptop and printer. He also tucked a letter inside," she grinned. "Get the car and the rest of the stuff?" she asked as she handed two bags to Lois.

"Of course I did. We really have to get some house-elves for that museum Selina and Bruce live in," Lois added.

Sheila grinned and nodded, saying, "Let's not keep the headmaster waiting. Cindy?"

With a pop, the elf appeared, squeaking, "Mistress! Cindy is happy to sees you again! How can Cindy serve Mistress?"

"We need to get these bags to our suite, and we need to meet with the headmaster. We're expecting one or two people for a meeting this afternoon about four," Sheila said.

"Yes, Mistress! Cindy will have tea ready at four for Mistress' guests!" With a pop, the luggage disappeared with the elf.

"By the way, what are the passwords?" Sheila asked as they left.

"_Moon base_ for our quarters, _Fortress of Solitude_ for here," Lois said. Sheila snickered, and said, "That works."

------------------------

"Ms. Lane! Ms. Hawking! How wonderful to see you ladies again! Please, come in, come in," the headmaster said, absently waving his wand to create another squashy armchair next to the fire. "How was your journey, Ms. Hawking?"

"It was quick and bumpy, but overall fine, thank you. What can we do for you, Headmaster?"

"Two matters, if you please," he handed over a wooden box, adding, "Firstly, as you are both muggles, please take one of each for each muggle member of your clan that visits. The crystal pendant will neutralize the anti-muggle charms around Hogwarts, while the galleon necklace is an emergency portkey. If you have need of it, you and whoever else needs to escape the situation need only touch it, and say 'Hogwarts'. It will transport you to our Infirmary."

They nodded as he continued, "I would also like to pass on my assessment of Miss Wayne's Occlumancy lessons, and I would hope you would pass them on to her parents." He shifted a bit, and then added, "I will also be discussing this with Miss Wayne, but for now, her studies have gone remarkably well. At this rate, she will have an excellent grasp of the subject by term's end, and I for one would like to continue her training after that. If everyone is agreeable, I would suggest Legilmancy, and later on, possibly Alchemy."

Sheila smiled, and said, "I'll be glad to pass this on, but I'd like to get a bit more information about these subjects, please."

"Ah. First of all, Miss Wayne seems to be a natural Occlumens. This is the ability to protect one's mind from external penetration." He noticed something, and asked, "You had a comment, Alastair?"

"I certainly do!" Both Sheila and Lois started when the Hat moved and spoke. "Miss Wayne kept me out of her mind during her Sorting. That hasn't happened since I Sorted Nicholas Flamel into Ravenclaw in 1337. If you don't train that witch up, it would be a crime against wizarding kind!"

"Now, really, Alastair," the headmaster said.

"I stand by what I said, Albus. If you want my opinion on the matter, I'd put her through Legilmancy next year, and from what Severus has said, she's already got a bit of a handle on Alchemy. By the time she graduates, we may very well have another Philosopher's Stone."

"What makes you think she could produce a Stone, Alastair? I've got Nicholas' notes, and I doubt I could make one."

"I've looked inside her mind, Albus, at least what she'd let me. Even if she can't produce a Stone, that mind playing with Potions, Alchemy and muggle chemistry? She's bound to produce something spectacular."

"Could someone explain what a Stone is? It sounds familiar, but…" Lois asked.

"Ah. You may have heard of it as a Sorcerer's Stone," the headmaster said. "Aside from producing gold from base metals such as lead, it is the key ingredient in an immortality potion."

"Immortality potion?" Lois repeated.

"And this Stone exists?" Sheila asked.

"No longer, I'm afraid," the headmaster sighed. "I talked Nicholas into destroying it in 1992, to keep it out of Voldemort's hands. He would never answer me when I asked if that was the only one." He sighed, adding, "They decided to pass on later that year, after they settled their affairs. I do miss the both of them," and at their questioning looks, added, "He and his wife Perenelle. Lovely couple, they married in 1350. I believe I've a photo about somewhere."

The headmaster was quiet for a moment, lost in his memories, when the Hat snorted. "Well, you have my recommendations. I for one would like the chance to have another nice chat with young Miss Wayne. Remember this, though. You need to get that girl trained up, and do it right. We don't need another Grindelwald or Voldemort, although they do seem to pop up every so often."

"Who was that first name?" Lois asked, "Grindelwald?"

"He was a dark wizard in 1945. I believe I've a photo somewhere…" The headmaster arose, and selected two volumes from his bookcase. Passing one to each visitor, he said, "These are the Who's Who in the Wizarding World. The Flamels are in one, Grindelwald in the other."

Lois flipped open the one, finding Grindelwald. She looked up, and said, "This is a picture of Heinrich Himmler."

"Yes, I do believe that was his name at Durmstrang. Grindelwald was a mage name." He motioned to the other book, and said, "I do believe there's a picture of Nicholas and Perenelle in there from 1980 or so."

Sheila flipped open the book, finding a typical wizarding photo of a couple in their apparent thirties. Lois leaned over to look, and said, "This was from 1980? When they were six hundred years old?"

"Six hundred fifty or so," the headmaster corrected. "The potion cancels the aging process at the point it is first taken. While not precisely an immortality potion, it has gained that name." He steepled his fingers, and said, "While I have no difficulty instructing Miss Wayne in Legilmancy, Alchemy concerns me. The last student here with knowledge of Alchemy was Severus Snape, and he learned what he could on his own – I did not instruct him." He gazed at them, adding, "You see my concern, I believe. Recent … events have been spawned partially due to the quest for immortality, and the study of Alchemy is a great part of that. While I have no doubts about Miss Wayne's character, do I dare take the chance?"

------------------------

With a flash of green flame, two figures stumbled out of the fireplace. Dusting themselves off, they turned to see Lois and Sheila waiting for them.

"Not exactly the most elegant way of travel, is it?" Lois asked with a smile. She held out her hand, "Lois Lane; and this is my friend, Sheila Hawking."

"It can be a bit awkward, but what else can you do? Christine Dobbs; and my friend Peter Boyle."

"Pleased to meet you both. Would you like some tea?"

------------------------

"I understand that you're both affiliated with Butterbeer?" Sheila asked over her teacup.

Peter glanced at Christine, and then said, "Yes, I'm the chief financial officer, Christine is corporate counsel. Why do you ask?"

"Two reasons. First of all, I am here to start up a branch of the Wayne Foundation for both muggle and wizarding London. In order to do so, I will need to be licensed to pass the Bar exam for both courts. My training is in criminal law, although for the last few years, my firm has been the attorney-of-record for both Mr. Wayne and the Foundation."

"I see," Christine said. "You'll need a tutor? I can handle that."

"Without violating your oath to Butterbeer?" Christine nodded, and Sheila continued, "We will of course need facilities suitable for both muggles and wizards, and convenient to both. Presumably we can buy and renovate to both sets of building codes. Finding such, and setting up the company under law for a charitable foundation."

Christine and Peter looked at each other, and he asked, "It sounds a bit big for the two of us. What about staffing?"

"You want to rescue your people from Butterbeer?" Sheila grinned. "We don't have a problem with that, as long as it is consistent with their oaths to that company." They nodded, and she added, "Since there is a muggle component to the Foundation, we do expect them to be able to dress and pass for muggle staff."

"No offense, but some of the clothing I've seen witches and wizards dressed in, well, I tend to wonder a bit," Lois said with a smile. "Christine, you see how we're dressed, we expect the same from you and the other ladies, since it will have the appearance of a muggle office."

"Makes sense, although those shoes do look dratted uncomfortable," Christine agreed.

"They are, especially when you're standing in them eighteen hours a day for arraignments," Sheila agreed. "Usually I bring a much more comfortable pair for around the office. However, they're the current fashion." She smiled, and said, "We've allocated about a thousand pounds for the men, twelve hundred for the women as a clothing allowance. That's about two hundred and two hundred forty galleons respectively." She took a sip of tea, and then added, "Salary for each of you would be 1500 pounds biweekly, proportionally less for your staff. We'll provide supplemental medical and dental insurance in addition to the National Health Service and we'll split the base cost of your children's schooling with you. Obviously something extra like Quidditch expenses for your child will come out of your pocket."

Peter nodded, "Most reasonable. What kind of funding will the foundation have?"

"Initially, one million pounds for building purchase, renovation, furniture, equipment, computers and such. After that, two million annually."

Christine looked at Peter, then asked, "You mentioned compulators. We don't have any experience with those."

Lois said, "Computers. They're not that difficult to use, and a darn sight neater than the quills." The bell rang for the end of classes, and she added, "Why don't you talk to your families, and let us know by Friday?"

They started to rise, and Christine said, "What about Butterbeer?"

"Your decision," Sheila said. "If you feel comfortable with leaving, whenever your honor permits. Please keep this conversation confidential, although you can sound out your staffs, quietly. One other thing I'd like to discuss with you, Christine, a legal matter." She nodded and sat back down, Lois saying, "Peter, I understand you have two daughters here? May I meet them?"

------------------------

Lois waved at Mattie, and then sat with Peter and his daughters at the Hufflepuff table. Emma sat down next to her, and mused, "That's Peter Boyle, he works with Mum. Wonder what he's doing here."

Mattie shrugged. "Dunno. How was Divination?"

"Useless as always. I hate to speak ill of a housemate, but Trelawney is the greatest twit. Unfortunately, you can't sleep or study in her class, like you can Binn's. She's predicting someone's death or horrible injury _every_ bloody class!" Emma ranted. "I wish we could get out of them wholesale, like the bloody Ravenclaws did, but NO, since she was a Slytherin, she can't forswear the possibility that someone else in our house might have (she finger quoted), The Sight! Arrgh!"

"No, tell me what you _really_ think, Emma. Don't be shy, now," Mattie said with a grin.

Emma turned, stuck out her tongue, then caught sight of Christine, jumped up and called, "Mum!" and ran to her.

Sheila edged around them, taking Emma's deserted place next to Mattie, who cast an _obscurus aqua_ charm. Inside the pale blue bubble, Sheila looked around, and said, "Very nice. I wish I could do it."

"I'm getting there, slowly but surely," Mattie grinned. "What brings you by, the little 'side job'?"

"Yep. The headmaster was very pleased with your Occlumancy lessons, by the way. We had a wonderful conversation, although a hat was rather mouthy."

"Ah. Alastair, the Sorting Hat. He is a bit opinionated, although he does figure into a prank I'm planning for the Quidditch game next month. Still, he seems a good sort."

Sheila shook her head and chuckled, asking, "What do you think about your classes with the Headmaster? Would you like to continue them?"

Mattie nodded. "He's a good teacher, we both enjoy it, and I'd like to study Legilimency," At her Aunt's raised eyebrow, she explained, "It's a way to extract emotions and memories from someone's mind. Something else I'd like to study more if I get the time is Alchemy. I've got some books on it already."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 20, 1999:  
Ballycastle, Northern Ireland  
_**------------------------

"Where do we stand?" the owner asked.

"Not good," the accountant said. "The goblins will loan the gold to us, but at 18 percent. What about a mortgage on your home?"

"I did a quick stop by Gringott's myself yesterday," the owner said. "If I mortgage myself twice over, I can afford the shares at market price." She sighed, then added, "I stopped in the Wooden Goblet in Diagon Alley, and they can't _give_ Butterbeer away. They're doing muggle drinks, now."

"I looked into venture capitalists, they're about the only other option," the accountant said.

"About?" the owner questioned. "What else is there?"

The accountant hesitated. "A rumor, really. Nothing more than that. A wealthy Yank is looking to invest in wizarding society in London."

"Chase it down," the owner said. "Even if those Yanks play Quodpot, I'd rather have a Yank on the board than Malfoy."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 20, 1999:  
Liverpool, Butterbeer home office  
_**------------------------

Peter closed the door, and Christine said, "Thank you all for coming. I know you've all seen what's happening, and I assume you've seen what's happening in the pubs." They nodded, and she took a ragged breath, and said, "We may have a solution…" she held up a hand, and they quieted, "Not for the company, but for the people in this room. No one else. You must understand that."

Lisa looked around, and then said, "What would it take for the company?"

Peter looked at them, and then replied, "Sales to double last month's for the next quarter, without being owned by Malfoy. We're his major source of cash, and he's feeling it. All without our knowing it, we've been financing you-know-who and his murder and torture for years. I doubt the Butterbeer brand will recover from that." He let them talk quietly, then said, "As Christine said, it's a possible out, but just for us. There are some other things to consider, but you need to consider how far your oath to Butterbeer goes."

"We've set up another meeting for Friday evening," Christine said. "Let us know your decision by Friday noon."

Peter added, "Just so you know, if Butterbeer does slide into bankruptcy, you lot will be paid after the Ministry and before we do. You'll get at least two weeks pay out of it, under contract. By the time the Wizengamot gets to us, I doubt there will be a bent knut left in the till." He raised his hand, saying, "We're just letting you know where things stand. Don't worry about us."

"Who is our mystery benefactor?" Lisa asked.

Christine shook her head. "I can't say who, although I will say that it's a very rich Yank, and he is most definitely not a Death Eater. The contract includes medical and dental coverage, both the muggle National Health Service and supplemental insurance, half of your children's basic schooling, and a clothing allowance." She grinned, and said, "Yes, that means you'll be needing muggle business wear. Their agents will assist us in that, if we decide to take them up on the move to London."

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 22, 1999:  
Liverpool, Butterbeer home office  
_**------------------------

Peter slipped into Christine's office, and quietly said, "We're in."

She nodded, and said, "So are we. When can you two start?"

"Properly, February first, but that doesn't give two weeks notice."

She sighed, and said, "I'd rather not give Malfoy _any_ notice, but I think we owe Josiah that much. He's been a good General Manager, and … "

"… and you feel like you're cursing him. I know," Peter added. "I've seen quite a few company owls leaving the last few days. Why don't we compromise on the thirty-first as our last day? That will clear the month's business."

She nodded. "Ready, then? We should go tell him."

------------------------

Josiah's secretary hurriedly covered the document she was working on, but Christine glimpsed her C.V. She smiled, and whispered, "Good luck!" as Peter knocked on the door. She winked as a weary, "Come in!" sounded, and closed the door behind her.

------------------------

"What can I do for you?" Josiah asked. He scrubbed his face, the thinning brown hair falling over his eyes. He took a sip of tea, winced, and tapped his wand to warm it up.

"We've come to give our notice, mate. As of the close of business on the thirty-first, we're out of here. Sorry, Josiah," Peter said.

"Is it just you two or your staffs as well?" He looked at their faces, and added, "Your staffs too. Well, I'm not really surprised. I can't really blame them, and between the three of us, I'll be following you shortly." He smiled at their surprised look, and said, "If this was something we did, I'd be fighting, but the way I see it, Malfoy created this mess, he can clean it up." Peter and Christine nodded, and he added, "Malfoy never has to clean up his messes. I'm tired of being one of the 'peasants' who has to bow and scrape and clean up after him. Well, the only thing I'll ask your departments is to make sure they're shipshape and Bristol fashion when you walk out the door."

"Why don't we get together later and catch up?" Christine looked at a calendar, and then said, "Sunday the 28th at the Cauldron for lunch?"

"Sounds good," Josiah said. "Good luck to all of us, and keep an eye out for your Butterbeer mates if you can."

------------------------

_Friday, 22 January, 1999_

_Emma – _

_Well, we're in. As of the close of business on Sunday the 31st, Butterbeer's legal and financial offices will be no more. Josiah will be following us shortly, and as he put it, if this was something we did, we'd be fighting. However, Malfoy created this mess, he can clean it up. _

_That means it might be a tight month or two for me, but don't worry. When I get home tonight, I'll stop by and talk to Mrs. Jumba, our landlady, and tell her the situation. Since we've always been on time with the rent, I don't anticipate a problem. _

_Please pass on to Ms. Hawking or Ms. Lane our agreement, and that we'll be available at their convenience anytime after February first._

_I love you, _

_Mum _

_P.S. I'll check with Josiah about buying Pisces for an early birthday present. He's a company asset, so he'll have to sign off on it. Study hard! _

She gave the letter to Pisces, saying, "Take this to Emma at Hogwarts, please." The owl hooted and took off.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 23, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement  
_**------------------------

"It's about time. I've been caged like an animal for two weeks, now!" Lucius Malfoy sneered at the small man that entered his cell.

The solicitor ignored his client's tone, placing a file and quills on the wooden table. He nodded at the guard, who cast an _obscurus_ charm and walked away. "We only have an hour, Mr. Malfoy; I am a busy man. I suggest we get down to cases. Firstly, there is the matter of my fee."

Malfoy sighed. "How difficult is it to present my draft to the bloody goblins? I want out of here, immediately!"

"The difficulty, Mr. Malfoy, is that your draft is no longer sufficient. I want cash before I represent you. In addition, the Wizengamot has not decided on a bond for you. Until they do, you will remain their guest."

"Use my duplicate key, then. You know where I keep it, and Samuel has my authorization to allow you access."

"Your house elves have been dismissed, and the secondary wards on your house library allow access to only yourself and the elves, Mr. Malfoy," the solicitor said. Malfoy's head snapped around, and the solicitor smiled faintly. "You did not change the listing of Mrs. Malfoy as Mistress of the Manor; therefore your house-elves accepted her release from service. I understand they are now working at Hogwarts. However, that is a separate matter. Due to your separation, the goblins will allow your estranged wife access and to write drafts on your vault, but only with both of your signatures. I do hope your separation was amicable." He set out parchment, and offered a quill.

"And if it was not, and she is not agreeable?"

"Then you will be represented by your Ministry-appointed solicitor. The hearing is scheduled for April 23, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest you be persuasive."

"What of my colleagues?"

"The other … persons captured by your … unwilling guests? They are not your concern. However, with the exception of Ms. Black, they remain, like you, guests of the DMLE. She was released on her own recognizance, based on the testimony of your … guests." He waved the quill again, and said, "Based on our previous business arrangement, I was willing to grant you this hour, pro bono. However, there is very little of that hour left, and Narcissa still needs persuading." Malfoy shot him a deadly look, and seized the quill.

------------------------


	17. Classes, Week Twenty Six, First Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**17 – Classes, Week Twenty Six, First Year  
**------------------------  
**_Sunday, February 14, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table  
_**------------------------

Sprink had apparently decided we would be 'neighborly', so we joined the study group at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. I just wanted coffee.

"Oi, post's here!" I looked up, and saw a large owl circling, which landed in front of me. He wore a Gringott's medallion, and I offered it some water and bacon as I untied the envelope from its leg. It hooted its thanks, and then took off as I rooted around my pockets for my moneybag. I touched it to the Gringott's logo on the letterhead, and the privacy charm deactivated. I groaned as I read the letter, stuffing the moneybag back in my jeans.

"Financial problems?" Amanda asked as I took a gulp of coffee.

"Yeah. I now need a financial advisor. What do your folks do?"

Ginny raised her eyebrow, and motioned for the letter. I passed it to her, as Sprink answered, "Don't look at me; I'm the poor but honest type. Mum married the stableboy, creating a huge scandal in the family. She was basically thrown out of the Black house." She sipped her tea, and mused, "You could ask aunt Narcissa, she's from one of the more 'respectable' branches of the Blacks."

Amanda waved her tea and said, "Solidly middle class wizards here. Must be nice to have lorries full of cash to throw around." Arthur grunted agreement, as Ginny passed me back the letter.

Professor Harry leaned over to kiss her good morning, and said, "What's going on this fine frosty morning?" He took a seat as I passed the letter over to him.

He grunted, and I answered Amanda, "You'd think so, I know. However, at a certain point, it just tends to feed on itself, and you make more money from interest, just having it in the vault, than you can spend."

"That's true. It gets to be just another tool," Professor Harry said. He added sugar to his tea, sipped, then asked, "Your parents dumping money on you for tax reasons?" I nodded, and he continued, "I'll introduce you to my accountant, if your aunt doesn't have something set up already. Got any ideas for investing?"

I shrugged, "I need a new broom. Something Quidditch related?" I passed the letter over to Charlie, and Arthur leaned over to read it. Professor Harry snagged the financial section of a _Prophet_, folding it lengthwise. He grunted, and then said, "What about buying some shares in Ballycastle? Their price is down since their link to Malfoy was exposed, but they're still a middling-good team."

"Their keeper's dodgy, though," Amanda said. The letter passed down to the twins as the table erupted in a Quidditch argument. I retrieved the letter as Professor Harry leaned over and said, "Ginny and I were going to Gringotts and Diagon Alley today. Want to come with us?" I nodded, and he motioned, saying, "Go ask Severus."

------------------------

Professor Snape gave his consent, but insisted that I change out of my 'muggle rags' into formal business robes. Professor McGonagall suggested I wear my school uniform, instead. They both offered to pass on to my parents suggestions for investments, but for now, agreed with using the goblins. "Harry trusts them, after all," is the way Professor McGonagall put it.

------------------------

I coughed, dusting myself off as I got to my feet. I hated travel by floo. I looked around, and Gringott's lobby wasn't as busy as I'd seen it during the week. I settled my clothing, and followed Professor Harry and Ginny.

"Is Mr. Griplink in?" I asked customer service. "I'm Martha Wayne. He sent me a letter."

"Key, please," the bored goblin said, not looking up. I grinned and placed the moneybag in his outstretched palm. Ginny winked at me as the goblin flushed and started to gabble something. He looked up, and almost had a heart attack when he saw Professor Harry, sputtering, "Mr. Potter! We had no idea!"

"Mr. Griplink, please?" I asked quietly. He motioned, and we followed him into a small conference room, Professor Harry asking, "Mr. Cliplink, also, please." Seconds later, a tea-goblin came in, followed by Professor Harry standing and holding out his hand to a pair of very well-dressed goblins.

"Mr. Potter, what can we do for you?" one of the goblins asked.

Professor Harry smiled, and said, "I need to add my fiancé to my accounts, and I'm helping out one of my students, Miss Wayne."

"Miss Wayne, you say?" the other goblin asked. "I'm Griplink, your personal account manager. You received my letter?" I nodded, and he continued, "I am your contact within Gringott's for you and your family. What can Gringott's do for you today?"

"I was thinking of doing some investing. Possibly with Ballycastle, but I am open to your suggestions, Mr. Griplink."

"A solid stock, undervalued now because of that dratted mess you were involved in. A good first play," he nodded. "May I suggest a strong growth portfolio, and would you like Gringott's to manage it for you?"

I smiled, "I would be pleased if you would be so kind, you come highly recommended."

"Ah, a personal account, most satisfactory, although there will be a few legal matters that must be accounted for due to your age. What of the other Wayne accounts?"

"I don't know if there are other arrangements. I will be happy to recommend you, though." I said, and Mr. Griplink smiled happily.

------------------------

I started to go into Quality Quidditch, but Ginny dragged me across the street into Parvati's robe shop, saying, "You're a businesswoman now, Miss Wayne. You need to dress the part." Professor Harry chuckled, giving Ginny a kiss and saying, "Have fun, ladies. I'll be down at Blaise's apothecary shop if you need me."

------------------------

"Ginny!" a thin Indian girl with a long plait of dark hair came out of the back, asking, "What can we do for you?

"Parvati!" they hugged, and then Ginny said, "Mattie here is doing some investing, she needs business robes."

"Won't I outgrow them?" I asked as I was motioned up onto a stand, and the girl released a tape that crawled over me. It wasn't quite as startling as the first time, though.

"Didn't you come in for Quidditch robes?" I nodded, and she shook her head, "Not like the guys do. We'll figure in the increase in height, and adjust them if you bring them in for the start of term." She started to make notes, mumbling; "Pureblood? Slytherin, of course you are." She looked at me, and asked, "How are the witches in your family?" I blinked, and she motioned, adding, "The bust?"

"Ah. Mom's one of those leggy, busty types, so I'll probably be one." I thought for a moment, and then asked, "What about muggle clothing?"

"Certainly," she smiled. "Underwear and shoes too, I assume?" I shrugged and nodded. "What about family colors and heraldry?" she asked.

"Colors are black and grey, with yellow accents," I said. "The Wayne clan traces back to the MacDubb family from Scotland, which does go back to the Crusades, at least. We came to the States in the 1700's." I shrugged, and said, "Sorry, that's all I know."

"McGonagall's going to love hearing that," Ginny grinned, from where she sat and sipped her tea. "She's a Scottish nationalist. She keeps this huge chart listing all the Scottish clans in her office, and updates it with students' information. You really ought to see it, it's quite something."

"I'll ask her when I see her for tutoring on Transfig," I said. Parvati raised her eyebrow, so I admitted, "My worst subject." A thought hit me, and I asked, "Can you cut these so I have a lot of freedom of movement? I do a lot of martial arts."

Parvati raised her eyebrow again, "What do you normally wear for that?"

"I prefer skintight clothing for workouts, but I don't think that would work. How about loose, with lots of leg and arm motion?" Parvati sighed and nodded, and Ginny giggled.

------------------------

I stomped my feet, knocking the snow off my boots as the doorbell tinkled at Quality Quidditch. I looked around, and asked, "Is Charlie Wickham in? I need another Firebolt II."

"_Another_ Firebolt II? What happened to the first one?" the clerk asked.

"A terrorist shot me down, and it smashed into the stands when I fell off it," I admitted.

He blinked, and then said, "You were at that game at Hogwarts?"

I nodded, adding, "I was _in_ the game. I'm the Slytherin seeker. Where's Charlie?"

"He's in the back, I'll fetch him," the clerk said. He hurried off, and someone said, "Did I hear you right? You were there at Hogwarts?" I nodded, and a girl asked, "Was there really a Death Eater attack? The _Quibbler_ wasn't making it up?"

"Oh, they were there. Black robes, Dark Mark and all."

Ginny added, "I watched it from the commentator's booth. It was horrible when Harry landed and turned over his wand." She nudged me, and added, "You were having a pretty good game, though. I'm looking forward to seeing the rematch."

"What rematch?" a fellow asked, and I answered, "We're going to resume our kicking Ravenclaw's arse from when we were interrupted. March 27th. Come on out to Hogwarts and watch."

"You're not afraid of the Death Eaters?" the girl asked, and Ginny looked at me, and I burst out laughing. I waved my hand, and said, "Sorry. Those incompetents couldn't organize a drinking party in a distillery."

"But… I heard there were people tortured…" someone offered, and I scowled. People blinked and stepped back as the temperature seemed to drop. Ginny snarled, "They hurt my Harry. They _will_ pay for that." I nodded, and growled, "They hurt two of my friends, they will have justice."

"Ginny. Mattie," Professor Harry said, touching our shoulders. I shook my head, and smiled. "Your broom's here, Mattie." I moved over to talk to Charlie as someone whispered, "Is that _really_ Harry Potter?"

------------------------

"I want to see my brothers," Ginny said, so we detoured to enter the Wheeze. I smiled at the flatulent door chime and the usual bedlam, and Ginny asked, "Can we borrow your office for a few minutes, guys?" One of the twins waved at her, and the three of us escaped to the back.

"Can you ward the door, Harry?" Ginny said as she motioned me to join her on the battered couch. Harry did so, and straddled a wooden chair. Ginny cleared her throat, and said, "I'm not sure how to approach this, so I'll just jump in, all right?" I nodded, and she continued, "No offense, Mattie, but when you were being attacked at the Quidditch game, did you … throw something at Pettigrew?"

I nodded in confusion, adding, "What, I'm not supposed to defend myself?"

"No, no! That's not the problem! The problem is, well, the way you did it," Professor Harry said. "The problem is that it was done with … muggle methods, and well … it's considered a bit … uncivilized."

Ginny sighed, and said, "This is another one of the cultural differences. Mattie, you're going to be criticized for not following proper etiquette when this comes out. Proper wizard combat says you should use your wand, at a distance of no more than twenty or thirty feet, which is dueling range."

"That's … " I tried to think of a diplomatic way to phrase it, "… silly. You take down your opponent as fast and hard as possible."

"Which makes the most sense, I agree. However…" Professor Harry scrubbed his face with his hands. "Ever wonder why I didn't just shoot Voldemort or his Death Eaters with a gun? I had plenty of opportunity." He sighed, and said, "At that point, I'd been in the wizarding world for several years. If I had done that, I would to have reserved the next bullet for myself."

"You have GOT to be kidding me," I said. "You've never used snipers? Not even for Death Eaters? That makes absolutely NO sense in a war!"

"What's a sniper?" Ginny asked.

"Someone that can shoot you through the eye from a half mile away," I replied.

Ginny shuddered. "That's very strange, coming from you, Mattie. There's a … unwritten rule against any sort of distance weapon, especially non-magical ones. Even You-Know-Who observed it, one of the few he did." She shuddered again, adding, "That's the way we're going to play this. Even so, it's still a good sized faux pas. We'll play your youth and the fact that you're an ignorant Yank, so you don't know (she finger quoted), proper behavior."

"So how should I have attacked Pettigrew?" I asked. "With a rock?"

Ginny sighed, "If you had thrown it or created it with your wand, yes." She raised her hand, and said, "I'm on your side, Mattie. However, the Weasleys are one of the old families, and my Mum is a rather … forward thinker. However, even she was tutting and complaining about your 'scandalous behavior', almost as much as she was over Harry."

"She was very friendly when we met her," I said.

"Of course, but _you're_ not her daughter," Ginny replied with a grin. "The problem's mostly political, but I'm sure that Malfoy's going to try to use it to his advantage."

"Joy," I admitted. "So what do I do? My aunt Lois won't see this as sufficient to stop writing her exposés."

"We don't want her to," Ginny said. "I'm just warning you that you're going to be in the public eye, now. I would follow Professor Snape's advice, he's got a sharp nose for which way the political winds are blowing." She hesitatingly added, "That may mean you have to give up Quidditch."

"WHAT? WHY?" I asked.

"Among the upper crust, where Malfoy lives, it's seen as a lower class sport," Professor Harry said. "Like polo versus football. I would rather you not, myself," and Ginny nodded in agreement, "But it's a possibility."

"Wonderful. What about the professional athletes that make a million galleons a year? Aren't they upper crust?" I asked.

"A million a year?" He blinked, then said, "I think Malfoy would regard them as just rich, not upper crust. We'll see how things play out, but you should inform your clan," Professor Harry said. "For now, how much cash do you have available?"

I shrugged, and pulled out my moneybag. I tapped it with my wand, and a balance of 37825/15/6 appeared. "A little over thirty seven thousand," I replied.

"I don't think we'll need that much," he grinned as he stood up. "We're going to get you a custom wand."

"So why do I need this? What's wrong with the one I have?" I asked.

"It gives you a backup wand, and there are two problems with your current one," he replied. "It's flashy, and it's registered with the Ministry. An unregistered wand, on the other hand, will let you do magic out of school. A custom wand is perfectly fitted to your magic, but they're expensive."

"Hmm," I pondered as we strolled down Knockturn Alley. "How much is expensive?"

"They depend on materials, and they're slightly illegal." He shrugged, adding, "What's illegal or not also seems to depend on who you can buy off, as Mr. Malfoy does." Professor Harry continued, "A normal wand from Ollivander's might run up to twenty galleons. One of these might run one hundred to two hundred galleons." He looked at me from under the hood of his cloak, and said, "Willing to pay that?" I nodded. "Here we are."

------------------------

I could barely make out 'Hillerich Wands' on the dirty front window. In the small, dingy shop that smelled of varnish, freshly turned wood and other things, Professor Harry knocked on the counter. A small, rotund man with a balding patch he was trying to comb over came out, asking, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I was referred to you by Mr. Gred Forge. I understand you sell custom wands? _Special_ custom wands?"

"Why, yes I do. How many do you require?"

"We require two. Can you travel to Hogsmeade?"

His eyes flicked around, catching sight of my Slytherin tie in the dim light. He smiled, and said, "Certainly. Who would like to go first?"

------------------------  
**_Thursday, February 18, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin Table  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!"

I looked up to the usual flock of owls entering the Great Hall. One of them descended, landing in front of me with an ornate medallion on his chest. He stalked over to me, thrusting out his leg. I looked at him, and he hooted. Shrugging, I untied the parchment, and the owl took off as I unrolled it.

"Why did you get a Ministry owl?" Emma asked.

"It's a subpoena," I said, looking over the dense legal text. "At least I think it is." I looked over to Emma, and asked, "Can I hire your mum? I think I'd better have her professional services available, as my aunt isn't licensed yet to practice in England."

"Your aunt already hired her for you. I've got a letter almost ready for her. Copy that over for her, and I'll include it with my owl."

------------------------

"Ah, Miss Wayne, please come in and have a seat. I'll be with you shortly," the headmaster said as he vanished behind a bookcase.

I walked over to where the Hat snoozed on a shelf, and whispered, "Alastair! Wake up!"

"Miss Wayne! What can I do for you?"

I plopped Alastair on my head, and thought, _"I'm sorry if I'm rude, but time's short. Here's my plan. If you can… "_

------------------------

"You look like you belong in that chair, Miss Wayne," the headmaster said with a chuckle.

"Albus, I was just having the most _delightful_ conversation," Alastair said. I pushed Alastair off my forehead, and found myself sitting in the chair behind the headmaster's desk. "Really, I can understand why you've been drawing out these lessons; she's got such a wonderful, supple mind."

_"Why, thank you, Alastair! Has he been?"_ I asked. "_Drawing out the lessons?"_ I clarified.

_"Not really." _He replied. "_I'm just twitting him, and I did mean that, my dear."_

_"Thank you. Do you think you'll have any problems getting Fawkes to help?"_

_"Not at all, he really does have the most curious sense of humour." _

_"I'll take your word for it. One question, if I might, it's a bit personal."_ I thought.

_"Go on, my dear." _

_"My aunt was wondering, um… have you ever been cleaned?" _

_"No, can't say as I remember it." _Alastair thought for a moment, and then added,_ "It might be nice, but I don't want to damage my magic." _

_"I certainly can't blame you for that,"_ I admitted. _"Still, should I bring it up with the headmaster?" _

_"No, no, I will. Best put me up, dear, and get on with your lesson. I'll talk to Albus later, and see you on Saturday." _

_"I'm looking forward to it!"_ I said, and put Alastair back where he resided.

"Now then, Miss Wayne, shall we continue on?" the headmaster asked with a twinkle in his eye. I jumped out of his absurdly comfortable chair and scooted to my usual one next to the fire.

------------------------  
**_Friday, February 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Defense classroom  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, everyone," Professor Harry said as he took off his robes, tossing them over a chair. He glanced around the room, taking roll, and then added, "By the way, Happy Birthday, Arthur."

"Oh, that's just GREAT!" he muttered, and Amanda gave him a sharp poke. "What, a little privacy is too much to ask?"

"_Most_ people don't object to having their birthday known, mate." Charlie said.

"Have you ever known me to be 'most people'?" Arthur replied.

"How'd you know?" Sprink asked Professor Harry.

"There's a calendar with everyone's birthdays in the staff room, and the agenda for each faculty meeting has that coming week's birthdays listed at the top," he replied.

"Moving on, I'd like to go over some ways you can get longer ranges with your spells. Now, this is a bit advanced, and thus not on the Ministry's approved first-year curriculum. One of them is the reflection spell, _reflectare_, and can be used both offensively and defensively." He settled himself in his usual position on a table, then asked, "How many of you have played snooker?" I raised my hand, as did most people, and he continued, "The idea is to bounce your spell off one or more of these floating mirrors, and hit your target. You can either conjure the mirror with _reflectare_, or transfigure an object into a mirror, then move it with _animus_."

Charlie raised his hand, asking, "If this isn't on the first-year curriculum, why are you teaching it, sir?" He blushed, and stammered, "Not that I'm objecting, of course."

"Well, I could give you an essay, say, twenty feet on the uses of the trip jinx, but I'm not in the mood for all that reading," Professor Harry replied. He grinned, and then added, "Just think, if you practice this now, by the time you're old enough to visit a pub, you'll clean up at the snooker tables!" There was a chuckle, and he said, "Seriously, the question arose over this past weekend about why someone didn't use a distance weapon on Voldemort." Sprink and the other purebloods made faces of disgust. He shifted on the table, and said, "There are times when you might want to use this, for instance if your opponent is hiding behind a tree."

"I can see that," Charlie said.

"Good, let me set this up, and we'll all give it a go." Professor Harry hopped off the table, conjuring a target with red and yellow rings, then a mirror about three feet in diameter. "All right. This takes a bit of practice. What we'll do is have everyone take three shots for practice, then three to score. The closer your stunner comes to the bull's-eye, the less homework you'll have to do." There was a muffled cheer, and he said, "For me at least." He faced the mirror, and called "_Stupefy_!"

------------------------  
**_Saturday, February 20, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin common room  
_**------------------------

"C'mon, Mattie, you'll miss breakfast!" Sprink said.

"Go ahead. I've got to get this finished for Herbology," I said as I hunched over the keyboard in the common room. "I'll catch up at the pitch."

"I thought you had that done, and the betting closes soon."

"I found a mistake and I need to revise," I said, pulling out my moneybag. "Put two galleons on Hufflepuff for me, would you?" sliding the coins across the table.

"But the Gryffs are favored…" she said.

"Yeah, but the Huffies have new brooms, which gives better odds for me," I said distractedly. "Go on, I've got to get this done. Shoo." I smiled at her, and then returned my attention to the screen.

"'Kay. See you at the pitch," Sprink scooped up the coins, and _finally_ left.

I closed my (already complete and correct) Herbology homework and logged off, and then walked down the circular stairs to my dorm.

------------------------

"Hello, Alastair. Did you have any problems?" I asked, picking up the hot oatmeal and coffee Cindy had left on my desk.

"Not at all, my dear, Fawkes popped me in just after Miss Tonks left." He replied from my bed.

I finished the oatmeal, checked my watch, and then excused myself for a quick trip to the loo. Coming out, I paused, and then asked, "Alastair, would you prefer to ride inside my coat, or on my head?"

"I would see more on your head, but whichever you prefer."

"We can't miss the two sickle tour, can we?" I grinned as I shrugged into my coat, wrapping my scarf around my neck. "Shall we?" I asked as I arranged him on my head.

------------------------

"Mattie? What are you doing with the Sorting Hat?" Terry Higgs asked.

"Very good question," Professor Vector said.

"Oh, Miss Wayne was nice enough to offer when I expressed an interest, Callista," Alastair said. "As I recall from your own Sorting…" she blushed and turned away.

"Now, Alastair, be nice," I said, and settled back.

"What _has_ the Hat told you?" Terry asked.

"Who, Alastair? Quite a bit of history, but nothing personal. It's just been a long time since he's seen a good game of Quidditch," I reassured him.

"1463, Mr. Higgs. Not to worry, I haven't been kidnapped from Albus' office."

"Is this a prank, stealing the Hat, Miss Wayne?" Professor Snape asked as he climbed the steps.

"Don't be silly, Severus," Alastair snorted. "Fawkes dropped me off. Miss Wayne hasn't done anything except a favour for me. Now please sit down, you're blocking my view."

I saw Sprink and waved to her. She nervously sat down next to me, and said, "I placed your bet. Blimey, where'd you get the Hat, Mattie?"

"Fawkes dropped me off, Miss Tonks. Did you get good odds?" I could feel Alastair's irritation as he added, "No, I haven't been kidnapped, and no, I haven't told secrets to Miss Wayne. However, if people keep asking, I _will_ start to tell them. Out loud, to everyone. _Is that clear_?"

------------------------

On the walk back to the castle with the celebrating Hufflepuffs, I managed to run into the Headmaster, who smiled, "Did you have a good time with Miss Wayne, Alastair?"

"I most certainly did! With the exception of a few comments before the game, I had a wonderful time."

"How so?"

"People assumed that Miss Wayne had kidnapped me for some reason. I was starting to become annoyed, Albus. I would appreciate it if you'd mention this at the Wednesday staff meeting."

"May I, Miss Wayne?" the headmaster motioned, and I nodded. He plucked Alastair from my head, placing it on his own. He frowned, the said, "I see what you mean, Alastair. I would not want Miss Wayne to suffer for her act of kindness." He looked at me, and added, "If you have a problem with this, please refer them to me. However, in the future, Miss Wayne, all you need do is ask."

------------------------


	18. Classes, Week 28, First Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**18 – Classes, Week 28, First Year  
**------------------------  
**_Tuesday, March 2, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin Table  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!"

I looked up, and one of the owls wheeled over me, landing with a thump. I detached the letter from its leg, and with a hoot, it flew off. I looked over at Sprink after reading it, and was surprised to see how exhausted she looked. I asked her, "Are you all right?" She nodded, and I continued, "I need to go to Diagon Alley. Want to come with me?"

"Na. Thanks anyway." She thought for a minute, and then dug into her pocket, asking, "Could you pick up some chocolate for me, though?"

"Sure." The bell rang, and we left the great hall, to head upstairs to the first floor History classroom.

------------------------

Professor Snape looked up from his own set of simmering cauldrons, and said, "Your boil-cure potion should be a light turquoise colour, and smell of cinnamon. One of you will take a goblet and test it. Miss Tonks, you are excused from testing, see me after class."

I was partnered with Charlie, we had flipped a Knut (I lost), and so he cast a _furnunculus_ hex on my face, and then ladled some into a goblet for me. I toasted him, and he knocked wood as I downed the potion. With a series of popping sounds, the boils started to disappear.

"Full marks, Mr. Adams, Miss Wayne. Bottle and label a vial and leave it on my desk." He raised his voice, adding, "Miss Leeds, Mr. Morton's boils are not going away." He stalked over to their cauldron, and looked at it, adding, "You did not completely crush the snake fangs. Mr. Morton, take a goblet of Mr. Adam's potion, while Miss Leeds bottles a sample and cleans up." Looking disgruntled, he accepted the goblet Charlie handed him.

"Could be worse, mate," Charlie said quietly. "Look at Andrew." Sprink's hex had made his boils seep blood, and their potion had misfired too, although it hadn't exploded like the twin's had with the porcupine quills. Andrew made his way over with a goblet, saying, "I wonder why Snape didn't want Sprink to test the potion, she lost the coin toss."

"Dunno," I said. "Did she look all right to you?" Andrew shook his head, toasted us, and downed the potion, returning to his cauldron.

------------------------

I waited for Sprink as Professor Snape filtered a potion into a goblet for her. She winced at the taste as Professor Sprout walked in with Jeremy Slater, a fifth-year Hufflepuff. He sat down to rest as Professor Snape called, "Miss Wayne?"

I hurried forward, and passed him my letter, asking, "Can I go to Diagon Alley on Friday afternoon, sir?"

He pursed his lips as a third-year Ravenclaw came in. Nodding, he said, "If Professor Potter is willing to escort you, I have no objections. Take Miss Tonks, have her lie down until six thirty, and get some loose clothing for her. I will send a house-elf with a meal for both of you to your dormitory, and do not discuss this with anyone."

"Is she all right, sir?"

"She suffers from a medical condition, and that is all you need know," he said, turning his intimidating gaze on me. I gulped and nodded, and he added, "The two of you will meet me outside the Slytherin common room at a quarter before seven tonight." I nodded and left, as he turned his attention to Professor Sprout.

------------------------

I managed to get Sprink undressed to her panties and bra where she had collapsed, boneless on her bed. I poked through her trunk, and didn't really find anything loose, so I pulled some sweats and a Gotham Knights shirt from my own. I sat and did homework, keeping an eye on her as she snored. At six thirty, I shook her, saying, "Sprink. Hey, wake up and get a bite."

"Mattie?" She seemed to wake up a bit; then said, "Oh, Merlin! What do you know?"

"You have a medical condition, although I don't know why you're not in the infirmary." I tossed her the clothes, and added, "What's that potion? It looks nasty."

"It is. Back in a minute," she said as she staggered toward the loo. After a minute, she returned, pulling on the sweatpants and t-shirt. Barefoot, she picked up a bowl of oatmeal and started to wolf it down. Tossing the bowl on her desk, she picked up the goblet of water, and said, "Thanks for the clothes, but you don't have to stay."

I shook my head. "Professor Snape asked me to make sure you were outside the common room in (I checked my watch) … fifteen minutes. You want to talk about it? Why aren't you in the infirmary if you're sick?"

"Because there's nothing Pomfrey can do for me, and if I were in the infirmary, I'd endanger other people," she said slowly. "Look, I appreciate the loan of your clothing. I'll replace them later, but…"

I waved this off. "Look, Sprink, we're best buds, friends to the end, right?" She nodded slowly, and I offered, "Look, this is a big secret you've got. I'll trade you. Remember at the beginning of school, I got a message from home?" She nodded slowly, and I said, "This is what that was about." I unlocked a compartment in my trunk, then whispering the decrypting charm and passing her the sheets from Who's Who.

------------------------

"I don't understand. Your family are Aurors?"

"Close. We're manhunters," I said. "Where the cops or whoever can't find someone, we can, or if the quarry is just too dangerous, we'll do it, all very unofficially. As a matter of fact, outside the Clan, you're only the sixth person on this planet to know, all of them here at Hogwarts."

"Who else knows?"

"Dumbledore, McGonagall, Potter, Snape, you, and Prince Harry figured it out. That's all." She passed the sheets back to me as I added, "That information is worth serious money to all sorts of criminal organizations. The total bounty on my Dad's head alone is close to seventy million dollars, or about ten million galleons."

"Merlin! That makes my problem seem … well, it explains why you're so good at fighting." I snickered, and she said, "Well, um. Y'see, I'm a werewolf."

"Thought it might be something like that," I admitted. I glanced at the clock, and said, "C'mon, we're running late!"

Sprink jumped up, grabbing her nightgown and robe, and said, "Take your books if … if you're gonna wait for me. It's going to be a long night."

"Twit. Of course I'll wait for you. What do you need done?"

"My charms homework?" She passed me a quill, and said, "It's charmed for my handwriting." She stopped, turned, and took me into a fierce hug, saying, "Thank you, Mattie."

I returned her hug, then said, "Come on, you silly twit. Let's go."

------------------------

"You are late, Miss Wayne," Professor Snape said.

"Sorry, Professor. We were talking," I said. "Family stuff."

"I see. Miss Tonks, do you …"

"I want Mattie there, if … well, she's willing."

"I already said I was, you twit! Let's get going."

"Typical Yank," the Professor said with a small smile. "Always in a hurry. This way."

------------------------

"This is the statue of Paracelsus, one of the foremost alchemists of the Middle Ages," Professor Snape said. "Pull his beard to open," which he did. A small chamber was open beyond this, with a heavy wooden door standing open beyond. Sprink ran past it into an antechamber, as I turned to look. The back of the door was plated in silver; small portholes, about six inches in diameter set with heavy silver bars were installed in the sides of the gate. "Are you sure you wish to do this, Miss Wayne? It will not be a pleasant evening." I glanced at Sprink, and nodded.

"Very well. Miss Tonks, Mr. Slater and Miss Johnson will be in that cell when they transform," he said. "Since they have taken the potion before two witnesses, they will retain their minds; however, there are several safety precautions. This door will be closed and barred, confining you, Miss Michaels, and Mr. Lacombe in the anteroom. You will not be able to open it from this side; furthermore, the corridor entrance cannot be opened from this side. It will take all three of you to remove the bars on the cell door. A house-elf will be on duty to furnish food or drink, but is under strict orders NOT to open the door for any reason until dawn." I swallowed, and he said, "One final precaution. Filius?"

Professor Flitwick came forward, handed each of us a gun, and told me, "In the event they escape the cell, Miss Wayne, these have silver bullets. Shoot to kill."

------------------------

Sprink came over, and asked, "Mattie, _please_. This is bad enough, please promise me you'll … well, you'll kill me if necessary." I looked at her, and the other two about to enter the cell. They looked at me, and nodded. Sprink twitched, and said, "Its beginning." She gave me a quick hug, pressed her wand on me, and ran inside the cell. The heavy wooden cell door was closed, and the locking beams put in place. The antechamber door was closed with a boom, and I looked at Michaels and Lacombe.

------------------------

I jumped at an agonized scream, with the sounds of ripping cloth. Abby Michaels looked up, asking, "You can't hear that in the Slytherin dorms?" I shook my head, and she said, "That's a hell of a silencing charm on that statue."

"I just wish I had known about this before," I fretted. "I thought Sprink was just an insomniac, or sleepwalking, not that she was a …"

There was a loud howl, and Peter Lacombe twitched; then said, "A werewolf? It's better now that the Wolfsbane potion's been developed. When I first started doing this, after they changed, they'd start to fight. The thing is that…" another loud scream sounded, "… werewolves can't be killed by normal means. There's only two ways to kill them, by decapitation when they're human, or with silver." He nodded at the guns we all had.

"What … what do they look like?" I asked, nodding at the door.

"Morbid curiosity?" I nodded, and he said, "You use a silver wand, don't you?" I nodded again, and he said, "Keep it in your hand, and don't put your fingers through the bars. Are you bleeding anywhere, or have any half-healed injuries? They'll smell the blood."

I shook my head, and Abby said, "I'm just coming off my period, which is why I'm staying back here. They have extremely acute hearing and smell; they can hear and understand us talking, even though they can't reply."

"Thanks," I whispered. Standing, I peeked in the dimly lit cell, and saw three large wolves. "Sprink?" I asked, and the smallest one finished lapping water from a trough, then ambled over to me, stopping a couple feet from the door. "Are you all right?" She cocked her head, and then snorted. Giving me a doggy grin, she found the shredded Gotham Knights shirt I had lent her, holding it in her teeth, she stood, propped it against the silver bars, then rested her forepaws on it, tongue lolling out of her mouth. I stuck two fingers through the bars, and she licked them.

"Oh, Sprink," I sobbed, "Why didn't you tell me?" She snorted again, and then bounded back into the cell, making a small nest with the sweatpants and shirt. Another wolf looked at me, gave a small 'woof', and then went over to nuzzle Sprink. Peter came and walked me over to join Abby as I cried.

------------------------

"I understand why you put your fingers through the bars, Mattie," Peter said. "I did the first time, too, but if Sprink had bitten you, even the smallest nip, you'd be in there at the end of the month." There was a small 'yip' from the cell, and Peter added, "There's a blue moon on the 31st. That's the second full moon this month."

I sniffled, then said, "There's no cure, is there?"

Abby hugged me, saying, "No. There's no cure."

I sniffled some more, then said, "Silly me, I thought I could get some homework done for … for Sprink." Abby hugged me again, and someone barked in the cell. Peter called, "Right-o, you three. Go to sleep and let us get some work done here!" There were answering barks and yips, which I could swear had a sarcastic tone.

------------------------

"Oy, out there! Wake up, you wankers and let us out!"

"Go chase a parked lorry, you flea-bitten mutt!" Peter called, and then nudged Abby. "Oy, who's the house elf out there?"

"Minnie is the elf, Master," I saw a house-elf peek through the bars. "Are Masters and Mistresses well?"

"We'll find out in a minute, Minnie," Abby said. "Is it dawn yet?"

"Minnie will see, Mistress," she replied before she disappeared with a pop.

Peter helped Abby and myself up, then called in the cell, "Oy, you three, show yourselves!" We each peeked in the window, and saw three mostly-naked people standing there, stretching to get the kinks out. Abby looked at Peter and myself, and then moved to shove on the first locking bar.

------------------------

I passed my gun back to Professor Flitwick, and shouldered my bag as Sprink pulled her housecoat on. I hugged her, and she said, "How's the homework?"

I chuckled wetly, "You mangy idiot, I only got a foot done for … "

" … for my assignment, Miss Tonks?" Professor Flitwick asked, with his normal good cheer. "Turn it in by Friday at five o'clock, would you? Now all of you, off to the Infirmary! Poppy wants to see you!"

"Oh! Just a minute!" Sprink darted back into the cell, coming out with the scraps of clothing she had slept on. She flushed, and said, "Um, Mattie, could you … could you sleep with these? The scent … it really helped me to know, that you …"

I gave her a brief hug. "No problem, Sprink. No problem."

------------------------


	19. Classes, Week 35, First Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

**19 – Classes, Week 35, First Year  
**

**_Friday, April 23, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Atrium  
_**

I staggered out of the fireplace, and someone passed me the brush. I cleaned the soot off Sprink's back, and she returned the favor as I looked around. There was a rank of fireplaces across the hall with a sign reading 'Departures only'. There was a golden fountain in the middle of the hardwood floor, past that a set of golden gates. Witches and Wizards were already lining up before the one old security guard. "Not very good security," I muttered, and Ian grinned at me as we joined the line.

"Mattie Wayne, for the Malfoy court case," I told the guard as I handed over my wand.

He grunted, saying, "Pretty wand. Where's it from?"

"Revere Wands in Boston."

He nodded, handing it back to me with a badge and a slip of paper. "Go to level nine, there's a stair down to the courtrooms. Malfoy's in number five."

-

We joined another line, where DMLE guards were confiscating wands. I waited patiently, quietly touching my unregistered wand in its sheath along my spine and adjusting my sweater over my tool belt, as I saw another guard waving his wand over people.

His wand flared over my chest, and he snarled, "Wha' y' got there?"

I tried to look intimidated, "Just a tracking charm. My parents insisted…"

He grunted. "In the box wif'it, lass. C'mon now." I extracted the locket (leaving the actual charm) from my neck, and reluctantly dropped it into a small box. I quavered, "I get it back, right?" He grunted and shoved me on to his partner, where I gave up my silver wand.

-

"All rise!" As we did so, the bailiff continued, "The people versus Lucius Malfoy, presided over by Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Albus Dumbledore."

We waited until the five judges were seated, and Professor Dumbledore banged his gavel, saying gravely, "Thank you, and please be seated. I am afraid that I labour under a conflict of interest, so I must recuse myself from this case, turning it over to Madame Amelia Bones." He submitted the gavel to her with a small bow, and strode down from behind the other judges; crossing over to climb the stairs leading up to the stadium-style seating that separated the spectators from the court.

Madame Bones asked, "Your business with the court, sir?"

"If it pleases the court, I, Albus Dumbledore, wish to represent Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in whole and in part. In that regard, I would like to file an amicus brief with the court." He passed the bailiff a scroll, and was motioned to take a seat at a table, while someone else moved to stand where he had.

"Your business with the court?"

"If it pleases the court, I, Winifred Sky, wish to represent Mr. Filius Flitwick and Ravenclaw House of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in whole and in part. I also have an amicus brief that I would like to file with the court." She passed the bailiff another scroll, and took a seat next to Professor Dumbledore as someone else took her place.

"Your business with the court?"

"If it pleases the court, I, Barbara Thomas, wish to represent Mr. Severus Snape and Slytherin House, in whole and in part…"

The parade of solicitors, all with amicus briefs, continued while the bailiffs kept enlarging the table and conjuring chairs. Every player had legal representation, but some stood out.

"If it pleases the court, I, James West, wish to represent three United States citizens, Miss Helena Martha Wayne, Miss Roshawn Cortez, and Miss Shaundra Cortez."

Madame Bones leaned forward, asking"What is your relationship to these three persons, Mr. West?"

Mr. West leaned forward on his cane, his snow-white hair spilling over his muggle business suit, and said, "I am senior counsel to the United States Ambassador and the Embassy, and have been licensed to practice before the Queen's Bench and the Wizengamot since 1922." I saw Aunt Sheila smirk from her place on the (now enormous) table as he continued, "I am charged with the representation of our three citizens, and will be reporting personally to the Ambassador at the close of each session, who will report to the Secretary of State and the President." He looked at Minister Fudge on the bench, who was sweating, adding, "The President is very interested in this case."

Madame Bones swallowed, then said, "Please be seated, Mr. West. Is there anyone else?"

Another white-haired barrister stood, and made his slow way. He said, "I believe I am the last, Madame. If it pleases the court, I, Lord Walter Dynas, am representing the interests of the Crown. Her Majesty has expressed a personal interest in this case, and I am charged with reporting to Her Majesty each evening."

"Thank you, Lord Dynas. Please be seated." Madame Bones said; then added, "Bring in the prisoner." A door opened, and Lucius Malfoy strolled in, carrying a walking stick, dressed immaculately and looking every inch the English Lord. He dusted off the chair next to his solicitor, and sat with a regal air.

"Strange, that," Emma whispered, and I glanced at her as she explained. "The prisoner is supposed to be bound in that chair in the center, there. Why is he sitting over there?"

"He's not supposed to have legal representation?" I whispered back.

She shook her head, "He's supposed to speak for himself, but nothing about this trial is normal. Look at all the barristers." I snorted softly, looking at thirty or so solicitors, almost all with white wigs and black robes, all scribbling notes at the one huge table.

The lone prosecutor rose, and called, "Milord, I protest! The prisoner is to be seated in the prisoner's dock, not with someone else."

Minister Fudge leaned over, interrupting him, "You object to Lord Malfoy consulting in his own defense? Be seated, Mr. Kenilworth."

Madame Bones glared at him, then said, "Mister Malfoy, you are charged with eight hundred and seventy nine counts of battery by spell, twenty-nine counts of kidnapping, another twenty-nine counts of forcible restraint, three counts of causing intentional injury to another wizard, and fifteen counts of using the Cruciatus curse on other wizards. How do you plead, sir?"

Malfoy didn't bother to get up. "Not guilty, of course." This caused a ripple of comment, with several flashbulbs firing as Malfoy sneered at the court.

"Mr. Kenilworth, your opening statement."

"May it please the court, I will show that Lucius Malfoy lead nine conspirators, on January ninth of this year, to attack the Hogwart's Quidditch pitch during a regularly scheduled game. His objective was to force the return of return of You-Know-Who's body, so he could be revived." He waited as the murmurs and gossip settled down, then continued, "He planned to do this by holding the Quidditch teams hostage, forcing Mr. Potter to return You-Know-Who's corpse from wherever Mr. Potter has it hidden. In doing so, he tortured two students with the Cruciatus in front of Mr. Potter, and threatened a Dark Revel with the female students." He nodded and sat down.

"Lord Malfoy, your response?" Fudge asked.

He sniffed, saying, "On the day in question, I arose late, and decided to have my morning tea in the solarium. I was perusing the Saturday Prophet while listening to the Wireless, when I heard of the attack. Needless to say, I was shocked, absolutely shocked at the interruption of the game." He smiled faintly, adding, "I have always enjoyed Quidditch, I have always thought I was one of the better Beaters Slytherin ever fielded. In any case, I was appalled later to have these ruffian students invading and destroying my home, and the one so-called 'adult' present, Mr. Potter, actively aiding and abetting them. Needless to say, I attempted to defend myself and my home, whilst restraining them for the authorities, only to find myself charged with these ridiculous crimes." He harrumphed, adding, "I have maintained for quite a while now that letting these half-bloods and mudbloods attend Hogwarts is one of the Headmaster's more egregious mistakes, and have said so at Hogwart's Governors' meetings."

"So you deny any involvement in the activities at Hogwarts, Lord Malfoy?"

"Beyond defending myself and my home, of course, " he sneered.

"Well, we can certainly take your word, milord, " Fudge said. "I propose we dismiss all charges…"

"I do not, Minister Fudge," Madame Bones said. "I propose we present the evidence and testimony under veritaserum, as is normal in this type of case. Mister Malfoy will have the chance to defend himself. Mister Kenilworth, please proceed."

"Thank you, Madame Bones. I would like to recap the events of 19 June, 1998. This is when You-Know-Who's forces attacked Hogwarts School. I would like to call to the stand Mr. Harry Potter."

-

Professor Harry coughed a couple times and conjured a glass of water as he took the seat in the middle of the courtroom. He smiled at the ministry mediwizard, a young fellow with a prominent Adams' apple, whose shaking hand managed to squeeze a few drops on his tongue. Mr. Kenilworth asked him, "Your name, date of birth, and position, sir?"

He smiled beatifically before replying, "Harry James Potter, born 31 July 1980, and Defense professor at Hogwarts." He giggled, adding, "I never thought I'd say that."

Malfoy slammed his hands down, standing and shouting at Potter, "Damn you, boy! Where is the Dark Lord?"

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madame Bones snapped. "Please be silent and sit down. Your solicitor will speak for you."

Potter giggled again, and sang, "Who, old Moldie? Moldy, moldy, Voldie! Who were we talking about? Oh, yeah, ol' stinky-tush Voldie… Voldemort! Why, I just saw him the other day, happily rotting away in his crypt. Y'wanna know where he is?" Potter staggered toward Malfoy, and said, "Ol' moldy Voldemort is located at…" he tripped, and landed face down, where he started to snore.

"Wake him up!" Fudge shouted. Professor Harry curled into a ball, and muttered"Snuffles!" Malfoy allowed himself to be pulled down into his seat, where his solicitor urgently whispered at him. Two ministry wizards levitated Professor Harry onto a stretcher, and out of the courtroom. Madame Bones was pounding the gavel, trying to restore order.

-

"I call Miss Helena Martha Wayne to the stand."

I palmed the red capsule Professor Snape had slipped me and dry-swallowed it, covering it with a cough as I made my way down the stairs. The antidote to veritaserum he had brewed gave me the outward signs of the potion, but allowed me to resist spilling family secrets. I stopped by the defense table, coughed again, and drank from Malfoy's water glass as I gazed at him. Sitting, I calmed myself and relaxed as I raised my mental shields. I had been warned that a Ministry legilimens would use a spell to project my thoughts. I smiled at the nervous young mediwizard, and stuck out my tongue for his shaking hand.

I heard Fudge say, "She's an Occlumens, give her two more drops." There was a loud explosion of sound, which I didn't care about, I sat by the creek and watched my waterfall. Someone gave me two drops, and asked me a question. I thought it was very silly, and said, "Mattie Wayne, May 31, 1988, and I'm the Slytherin Seeker." I wanted to go back to watching my waterfall, but people kept asking me silly questions. I said"Lucius Malfoy is one of the most incompetent terrorists I've ever heard about. He couldn't organize a bottle party in a distillery." I smiled again, and someone asked about the Quidditch match. I shook my head and focused on Fudgie's purple face and giggled, sticking out my tongue at him. There was more screaming and shouting, and I suddenly felt cold as cold hands gripped my arms. There were two snarls right over my head, and the cold went away, but someone shouted, "**AVADA KEDAVR…**"

-


	20. Interlude Three: Azkaban

-  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
-  
**20 – Interlude Three: Azkaban  
**-  
**_Unknown date:  
The North Sea, early morning  
_**-

"Wake up, you." The burly man wrapped his cloak tighter, then pointed his wand at the small, bound form in the longboat, and said, "_Enervate_."

She shook her head and shivered in her school robes and uniform, which was already soaked through. A green and silver necktie showed at her throat, above the ropes confining her. "Where am I?"

The other man in the boat said, "The norf' sea, lass. We've got a bit o' tradition for ye'."

"Tradition? The North Sea?" Winking lights from oil platforms showed through the mist.

"Aye," the second man said. "'Tis tradition to let new prisoners see their new home." As if on cue, the fog disappeared, and a black fortress loomed over the sea. "'Ere you are, luv!" he said, sounding like a real estate salesman. "Azkaban prison. Take a last look at the sky, now. 'Y won' be seein' it again!"

"But … but I didn't do anything!"

Both men laughed uproariously. "Prison's full o' innocent men, 'tis. 'Undreds of 'em. Now why y'd go an use an unforgivable, I don' know, lass." One of the men grabbed her arms, and he continued, running a rough hand over the leg of her white bodysuit and under her grey skirt, "We can make sure you're in one o' the upper-level cells. Naw't wi' the other lifers down in th' dungeons, lass." She smiled, and he moved closer as she shifted on the seat. He smiled, and reached for her as she kicked him with her bound ankles. He went 'oof' as he cracked his head on the side. With a quick '_Stupefy_' she stopped struggling.

-

"_Enervate_" the man behind the desk said. He was heavy, running to fat, adding, "Put Miss Wayne in that chair." He steepled his fingers, and said, "I am the warden. Normally, having attacked a guard, I would add fifteen years to your sentence. However, with a life sentence, that seems a little silly." I gazed at him, and he asked, "No protestations of innocence?"

"Sorry to burst your stereotype," I replied. "I am innocent, but you can't change that. Only those idiots at the Ministry can." I leaned forward, "I would appreciate two things, however."

The warden chuckled, "Original. What are they?"

"To know what the charges and evidence are against me, and a drying and warming charm, unless you'd prefer I die of pneumonia my first day in your _lovely_ facility." I looked around the expensively furnished office.

"You are a change in the ordinary. A bit of business, first. I'm placing you in level nine of the dungeons, one level above the punishment cells. They flood for several hours every day, so I suggest you mind your P's and Q's."

She looked at the injured guard. "As long as no one tries to rape me, I'll be good. After that, it's self defense."

The warden asked, "Again, Wilson?" He tutted, and said, "Go get yourself fixed up. Jones will take care of Miss Wayne." He looked at me, adding, "There has never been a successful escape from Azkaban prison." Wilson left, Jones standing behind her as the warden continued, "In case you're thinking of stealing a guard's wand, please be aware that they are blood-matched to the individual guard. You won't be able to work with them, and it will count as an escape attempt. Since you're so young, you can't do wandless magic." He shook his head, and said, "Only thirteen and in Azkaban. What were you thinking?"

"I'm ten, actually, a first year. I could tell you what I was thinking if I knew what I was charged with."

"Ah, yes," the warden flipped open a thin file folder, and said, "You were charged with the attempted murder of Minister Fudge with the killing curse."

"I see. What's my motive, and what evidence is there?"

"According to this, it was in a private meeting, and both Minister Fudge, and Deputy Umbridge have seen the evidence against you." He looked up happily, and said, "No trial necessary, they've signed off on having seen the evidence. All perfectly legal and aboveboard," he said as he flipped the folder closed.

"No trial? Since when? Why would a ten year old girl be meeting with two judges on a case, and what evidence does it cite?"

The warden frowned, and flipped the folder open again. "Ah. As a Yank, you wouldn't know. During You-Know-Who's first rise, Chief Auror Crouch authorized imprisonment that way. You'll be pleased to hear that he forbid death sentences, and all you need is the signatures of two members of the Wizengamot. Yours are Minister Fudge himself and Undersecretary Umbridge." He smiled happily, adding, "As I said, perfectly legal, and it's never been revoked. Now then, according to this, they were discussing your trial testimony against Mr. Malfoy when you became unhinged and attacked them." He flipped through the folder; then added under his breath, "Evidence to follow? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"I think you have an idea what it means. They need time to manufacture evidence. Why would someone be discussing their trial testimony, _in private_, with two of the judges of a case? What would be my motivation to kill Fudge, and with something as easily traceable as the killing curse? Do I look like someone who would become unhinged so easily?" I licked my lips, adding, "Maybe you should ask a few questions."

"Yes, yes," he muttered distractedly. "Jones, take her away. I need to think."

-

"I'd prefer to walk, if you don't mind, Mr. Jones. Try and warm up, you know."

"Ayup." He looked up and down the corridor; asking, "You'll be good?" I nodded, and he banished the ankle ropes; then quickly cast drying and warming charms. He whispered, "'Summat funny 'bout your case. It's been a while since I seen one come in wi'out evidence, an' how a firstie 's gonna know the killin' curse?" He looked at her, then asked, "Sprout still a' Hogwarts?"

She nodded, whispering "She's head of Hufflepuff."

He grunted, "I go' ta think," then saying a bit louder, "Back to your cell, before high tide, there, missy."

-

As I walked ahead of Jones' pointed wand, I shifted a bit in my ropes. I could feel my equipment belt under my sweater, and tried to surreptitiously pull it down with my hands, crossed and bound behind my back. The familiar feeling of the knives in my boots was welcome, and I thanked whatever gods there were that Ian had cast '_Notice-Me-Not_' charms for me. They were far beyond my own meager spell-casting.

I tried to remember the path we took, and paused at a cross-corridor, turning to look back at Jones. He motioned, grunting, "D9, lass". I nodded, and walked fairly slowly, after all, I couldn't be seen as _eager_ to get to my cell. I did wonder why there was no sign pointing to the supposed tenth-level punishment cells. We passed lifts, and I wondered why the few other guards I saw didn't seem surprised to see me still wearing my Hogwarts uniform. "_Why don't they strip their prisoners?_" I wondered to myself. "_Are they that confident of their security?_" I walked along the first level of block D, and saw inmates sitting on the floor of small cells. I stopped again, and Jones motioned for me to go down a circular stone staircase. I slowly made my way down, and Jones grunted, "Hurry up, lass."

"I don't want to fall and break my neck, all right?" I snapped at him. He grunted and continued to walk behind me. The stairway ended at level nine, a fairly damp corridor. He stopped at the second cell, and pulled out an old-fashioned skeleton key to open it. He motioned, and I walked into a small, low-ceilinged damp cell, where I took a seat on a small stone platform. Jones shackled my ankles, and then locked a steel collar around my neck. Stepping back a few paces, he banished the ropes; aiming his wand, and telling me, "Wrists in the shackles, now." Looking at him, I complied, wrists near my ankles. He nodded, adding, "Y' got eno' chain there to feed y'self. Have a nice life, luv." He backed out, wand raised, then slammed the cell door. "Water comes up the steps at high tide, luv. Behave, an' ye don't go downstairs."

I looked around my new home. I could see the barnacled high water mark three or four feet up the steel cell door, just below the level of my little platform. The cell itself was about three feet on a side, my little platform about eighteen inches wide, giving me about three feet of headroom. Pulling on my shackled wrists, they led through a ring to my ankles, giving me about two feet of chain. I could move my arms or legs, not both. Tossing my hair, I leaned forward, finding another two feet of chain for my neck. I sighed, and somehow managed to lie down on the little platform to rest, already thinking about my escape.

-

With a low rumble, rats and mice started to run into my cell. I screamed as they started to climb on me, and struggled to sit upright. Two or three cats followed the rats, fighting them and each other around and on me. Shrieking, I tried to edge away, but my chains snapped taut as the rumbling grew louder. Rats and mice continued to climb on me, as seawater started to enter the cell.

-

Water dripped from the cell's bars, and I lay exhausted on my little platform. I felt something cold coming down the dim corridor, hearing a rattling breath. I saw a dark robed figure with skeletal fingers stop outside my cell. With each breath, I felt a little bit of hope die, and I screamed again.

-

"'Ave a good morning, luv?" the guard asked with a chuckle. I glared at him, my throat raw from screaming, and he added, "Life sentence, too. Well, here 'y go, lass, enjoy!" He tossed a dry half-crumpet and a small tin bottle to me.

"What's this?" I croaked.

"Your daily meal, luv," he grinned at me; then added, "Actual every other day, budget cutbacks from the ministry, don't 'cha know." He winked at me, adding, "Now, for a small bit o' favor, we could arrange summat." He stepped back, grinning as he slammed the door shut. "Ta, luv!"

-

Five days later, my stomach was growling, and without being able to reach the chamber pot in the cell, I had fouled myself. I looked up at the door, and the guard was there, smiling happily. "Well, now luv, have you thought about my offer?"

"Go blow a dementor, asshole."

"Oh, that's not p'lite at all, now is it, luv? _Petrificus_!" I froze, unable to move, as he casually unlocked my chains with _alohomora_, then he pulled my wrists behind me, reshackling them to my ankles. Arranging me to his satisfaction, I hung partway over the platform lip. He slammed the cell door closed, then said, "_Enervate_. Enjoy your bath, luv. Maybe it will wash out your mouth."

"Damn," I struggled with the chains. I didn't have the upper-body strength, the only thing keeping me on the platform were the chains. I tried to relax, conserving my strength and leaning over the platform from the waist.

The vibration and rumbling of the incoming tide woke me, as did the rats and mice. Three of them ran onto my head, forcing it down. I shook my head violently, dislodging two, but one clamped onto my hair, forcing a paw into my ear. I heard a hiss, and felt a cat on my shoulders, trying to get the rat with swipes of his paw, his claws digging into my hair and clothes. Screaming, I tried to shake them off as the water rose, pulling back with my ankles against the chain to raise my shoulders above the tide.

-

"I can't do this," I said, panting and exhausted as the tide receded. I heard the rattling breath of the dementor as it paused by my cell and a wave of despair broke over me.


	21. Classes, Week 37, First year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
-  
**21 – Classes, Week 37, First year  
**-  
**_Unknown date and time:  
London, The Ministry of Magic, Minister's office  
_**-

"I know I can count on you, Weasley," the Minister said. "We need to lock the Wayne chit away for a while. Someplace safe, where we can play her card later, dead or alive, we'll decide what would be best then."

"Azkaban, then?" Percy said. "Some particularly heinous crime, perhaps," he mused. Nodding, he said, "I'll bring 'round the file and sentencing card for your signature later, Minister."

"Good, good. Have Dolores countersign, my boy. I think I'll arrange to get you on the Wizengamot, but I'll need to arrange a vacancy, first. Pity we can't get rid of that fool Dumbledore."

"Yes, you'd make a much better Chief," Percy said. "I'd best be about her doppelganger, then. You'll let me know how you wish to play it?" The Minister nodded, and Percy levitated the fresh corpse out.

**_Saturday, April 24, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
_**-

"Cancel the match."

"No," Karen shook her head, adding, "Mattie …" she choked, "Mattie would have wanted us to play. She … she loved Quidditch."

"I … I'm sorry about Mattie," Susan Fawcett said, leaning over and giving Karen a hug on her way to the Ravenclaw table.

"Karen," Abby Michaels said as she sat next to the Slytherin Captain. "We can postpone the match if you want; to give a bit …" she choked back a sob, "… a bit more time to grieve."

"Wha' I'd like ta know is one bloody thing," Ian said. "Why was she arrested for tryin' to assassinate tha' bloody half-wit Fudge, when we all had our wands confiscated, and who cast the killin' curse on who fro' the bench?" He took a breath, adding, "An' why was she killed 'resistin' arrest', when she was doped up on veritaserum? She could hardly walk!"

"That's three, but I see wha' you're sayin', brother mine," Frank said. "Isn't tha' normal dosage _three_ drops, an' they gave her four?"

"Or five, even. Tha' mediwizard's hand was shakin' like a leaf," Ian agreed. "There's no way she could aim a curse, much less fight in her condition. An' for someone o' Mattie's size, tha' normal dosage is _two_ drops. Three is an adult dose. Givin' her more because she's an Occlumens? Y'saw wha' the ministry was able to pull out o' her mind."

"What did you see?" Abby asked.

"What looked like a family graveyard," Karen said. "She moved up a path between the headstones, and behind what looked like a family crypt, there was a pile of rocks, with a waterfall and a pool. She sat there and put her feet in the water, and watched the waterfall."

"There was a few seconds of a Quidditch game," James said. "It looked like the Ravenclaw game in January. We saw her orbiting the pitch and the castle in the background, she dove, and it was back to the waterfall." He shrugged, adding, "Then the dementors came in, and tried to drag her off. Sprink and the Ravenclaw chaser …"

"Johnson," Abby said quietly.

"Right, thanks. Sprink and Johnson transformed into wolves and attacked the dementors." James asked, "Did you know they were werewolves?" Abby nodded, and James coughed, then said, "Well, another dementor dragged her off, and that's the last we saw of her. The courtroom was an absolute madhouse, of course."

"Of course," Abby said. She thought for a minute, adding, "The muggles have a saying, guys," Abby said. "Something's rotten in the state of Denmark. I'll owl mum tonight, she works for the ministry, and we'll see what we can find out. For now, though, do we play?"

Karen looked around, and said, "We play. For Mattie, Sprink, and Johnson."

"For Mattie, Sprink and Johnson," Abby said. She held out her hand, and said, "Good luck."

**_Wednesday, May 5, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
_**-

"Hey, guys."

"Sprink!" Ian jumped up and folded her in a rib-crushing hug. "Where ha' ye' been, lil' sis?"

"The bloody ministry, where else? First they dragged me off to 'Werewolf Control'; then they burned a bloody brand on my arm, _along_ with a tattoo, and then they interrogated me, for four stinkin', bloody days! They seem obsessed with the idea there's some bloody conspiracy against that idiot Fudge!" She took a breath, adding, "Then, because it's two bloody days before the full moon, they chain me an' Johnson in cells. I told them I'd be fine if they'd only give me my potion, but **_no_**, there's no budget for potion! No budget for bloody food either! Then, after they unchained us this mornin', they kicked us out, and we had to raise a stink just ta' get our wands back! Pomfrey was burnin' our clothes in the fire when we snuck out." Sprink finally ran out of breath, and sat down, grabbing a goblet of pumpkin juice. She looked around, and asked, "Where's Mattie? Pomfrey excused us from classes for the day."

Karen just shook her head and started to cry, choking out, "We haven't heard anything, we don't know. The dementors…"

"No!" Sprink whispered, turning into a howl, "**_NOOOOOOOOO_**!"

**_Friday, May 7, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall  
_**-

Cornelius Fudge looked at the faculty and students heading to their afternoon classes, and smiled at Professor Snape. "There you are! Just thought I'd personally return Miss Wayne and her property to you. Terrible thing, it is. Terrible." He patted the inexpensive pine coffin, and the battered trunk sitting next to it.

Sprink growled, and moved to open the coffin. She sniffed at the corpse; then spun at the departing politician. "Wait a minute," she called to the departing politician. Several crying students looked up. She sniffed again, and then strode over to Fudge, saying, "That's not Mattie."

"Why, of course that is! After all, she tried to kill me, I ought to know, and Dolores here saw her killed resisting arrest. That's Miss Wayne," he stated with certainty.

"What do you mean, Miss Tonks?" Professor Snape had looked in the coffin, and said, "That's Miss Wayne."

"No, it isn't," Sprink insisted loudly. "That's a glamour spell. The smell is all wrong. Mattie smelled like oil and burnt metal smoke, _that_ person smells like mortar, sweat and pain. I'd put the entire Black family vault on it. Madame Pomfrey should be able to confirm it." She glared at Fudge, and said, "Where's Mattie's stuff, by the way?"

"What do you mean, Miss Tonks?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Sprink motioned, "Mattie used a Firebolt II, that's a Comet 110 that's so old I doubt it flies. Is there anything in the trunk?" she asked the watching students. One of the Hufflepuff students standing near called 'UP!" to the broom, which quivered on the floor. A Ravenclaw opened the trunk, and called, "There's nothing here. No clothes, books, or anything."

"This is absurd," Fudge said. "Here's the receipt for her equipment, it clearly states 'broom and trunk', that's what you've got! Dolores saw her fighting with the Aurors; of course that's her body!"

"Was there anything left in her dorm, Miss Tonks?" Professor Dumbledore asked gently.

She shook her head, "When they searched it, they broke her four-poster. They took everything, the posters on the walls, and even her alchemy books and new computer!" Sprink stalked over to Minister Fudge, telling him, "If Mattie wanted you dead, you would be, and it wouldn't have been with a Killing Curse." Agreement rippled through the watching students.

"Hem, hem," Undersecretary Umbridge said, "How can you be so sure, little girl? Are you calling the Minister and I liars?"

"Yes, I am, you arse! I can smell the bodies, and I can smell you lying. I'm a damned bloody werewolf!" Fudge suddenly turned and bolted for the door. Sprink transformed along with the other two werewolves in the crowd, then howled and gave chase, followed by the students and faculty.

Outside, the three wolves played, circling the puffing Minister as he ran to get out from under the Apparition shield. They herded him in circles in the grass, yipping and barking to each other. Two broke off, running to intercept Dolores Umbridge and herded her near the portly Minister. The two politicians collapsed to the grass, panting, where the wolves lay, watching them with tails wagging as the students and faculty formed a loose semi-circle, and watching the afternoon's entertainment.

"You should know better than to run with canines, Minister," Severus Snape said. "They do love their play." Umbridge levered herself up, drawing her wand. One of the wolves raised their hackles and snarled, crouching and staring at her. A quick 'e_xpelliarmus' _relieved her of her wand.

"You saw it! Those … animals attacked us!" Umbridge screeched.

"I saw nothing of the sort," McGonagall said. "They have not laid a paw on you. Why, look at them, tails wagging, they simply want to play. Isn't that right?" The three wolves yipped, and scampered over to her for an ear scratch, tails wagging.

"They're just puppies," Filius Flitwick said, and they yipped, bouncing over to greet him. One of the wolves was larger than the tiny professor, and gently knocked him down with a snout to the chest. Pomona Sprout reached down and helped him to his feet as he chuckled.

"I think it would be best if Severus joined us in my office, Cornelius," the Headmaster said with a twinkle in his eye. He looked around, and said, "Miss Bundy. Would you make the appropriate notice to your potions class?" He gestured, asking, "Cornelius? Dolores?"

**_Friday, May 7, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office  
_**-

Cornelius Fudge was picked up by the collar and slammed into the wall by an infuriated Severus Snape, who hissed, "Where is my student? Where is Miss Wayne?"

"Now, now Severus," Albus chided. "Put Cornelius down, that's a good boy. Dolores, won't you sit down and have some tea?"

"If you think that I will politely sit and have tea while this idiot (he slammed Fudge into the wall again) thinks he can pass off a random body he's got lying about with a glamour spell (he slammed Fudge against the wall again), and we wouldn't notice, he is a larger dunderhead than you are, old man." Severus held Fudge at eye level, his pointed green boots dangling at the Potion Master's knees, and snarled, "Where is Miss Wayne?"

"Why, lying in that coffin, of course. Why, that student, a werewolf? They're all such dreadful liars. Comes from their condition of course," Fudge insisted.

"Neither Miss Tonks, nor the other two werewolves, nor indeed _any_ of the werewolves I have known have been congenital liars Fudge," Severus hissed. "Unlike a great number of politicians I have had the misfortune to encounter. Public office may have addled your brains, but mine are as sharp as ever. What is Miss Tonks' motivation to lie about her best friend to her head of house?" He waited, then declaring, "I am waiting for your answer, Fudge."

"She must have wanted the new books and broom and whatnot you seem to insist Wayne had."

The potions master looked disgusted, "Not only are you a liar, Fudge, you are a _poor_ liar. You forget that over three hundred people in this building have _seen_ Wayne with that equipment with their own eyes; not only that, you accuse one of my students of not only lying, but theft. Were Miss Tonks in this room at the moment, she would have every right to demand justice from you."

"Severus, I think…" Albus said.

Severus ignored him, smirking cruelly; adding, "I believe she would have difficulty choosing among her seconds. I would stand with her myself if she wished, as would a number of faculty, including," he paused, "Professor Potter. Surely you have heard of him? Now, Minister, who would stand with you? Hmm? Perhaps … your delightful companion, Dolores Umbridge? Your other toady, Weasley? The one that has managed to alienate his entire family? Perhaps your good mate Lucius Malfoy?" Severus pursed his lips, adding, "No, I think not. You forget Lucius and I were housemates, Minister. Whatever dealings you have with Lucius are strictly business. Tell me, has he ever offered you a drink?" He sneered, saying, "You are not worth my time, Minister," and flung him away. The minister landed with his head making a loud 'crack' against the stone floor.

Dolores Umbridge was out of her chair, shrilling, "How DARE you say that about the Minister! I demand that you apologize immediately! This is a gross violation of …"

Severus picked her up by the front of her robes, snarling, "You are a gross violation of my oxygen, Dolores Umbridge. I would also like to know why you are still wearing Slytherin colours, when you have been expelled from my house. I demand that you crawl under a rotten log with your beloved Minister and the other slugs, you fat toad." He looked at the Headmaster, saying, "I will be with Poppy, Albus, assisting in the autopsy. Once we have determined the corpse's identity, we will arrange with her family for burial." He shook Umbridge, adding, "Idiot, you thought we wouldn't do an autopsy?" He snorted, adding, "You will, of course sign a _proper_ death certificate for the poor girl." Dropping her to the floor, he told the worried Headmaster as he left, "Ply these two with your tea and lemon drops _old man_, and get what you can out of them. Some of us still care what happens to our students."


	22. Classes, Week 38, First year

* * *

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1**

* * *

22 – Classes, Week 38, First year  
**

* * *

**_Monday, May 10, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Herbology class: 09:00  
_**

* * *

The bell's ringing covered Pomona's sigh. She was dreading the first-year's class lately. Putting down her tea, she left her office, to find an argument in progress, two students being restrained by others. 

"She's dead, Sprink! When are you going to realize that?" Charlie Adams insisted, as he was held back by Andrew Kirke.

"She is NOT dead, you insensitive PRAT!" she shouted back with tears in her eyes, as she was hugged by Arthur Morton, his heels dug in. He was assisted by the Cortez twins, who glared at Adams.

"What's all this about?" Pomona called. "Break it up, now! Mr. Adams, what have you to say?"

"It's about Mattie, err, Miss Wayne, Professor," Amanda Leeds said.

"Thank you, Miss Leeds, but I was asking Mr. Adams," Pomona said. "Mr. Adams?"

"That bastard Fudge has killed her somehow, I was saying that we ought to accept it and move on, Professor," Charlie said. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Sprink."

Pomona nodded, asking, "Miss Tonks?"

"She's not dead until I smell a dead body that's hers," Sprink said with a sniffle. "That body Fudge tried to pass off didn't even have the right blood type!" She relaxed, as did the three people restraining her. "I'll agree w' you about that bastard Fudge, though, mate."

"Well, now," Pomona said. "All I'll say is that until we get an _accurate_ death certificate for Miss Wayne, the staff is considering her missing, not dead." She absently slapped her dragon-hide gloves against her desk. "Mr. Adams, Miss Tonks, you have a free period this afternoon, I believe?" They nodded, and Pomona said, "You will both stay after class for a detention. You were disrupting class after the bell rang. I have flutterby bushes that need pruning; we'll have a house-elf bring us lunch. Now then, we will undoubtedly find out more regarding Miss Wayne later. For now, we need to revise. Miss Leeds, what can you tell us about those flutterby bushes?"

**_

* * *

Monday, May 10, 1999:  
London, Wayne Enterprises, Conference room: 10:05  
_**

* * *

"Girl, you look like hell." 

"Thanks, same to you," Selina said, looking at Sheila, "Any news?"

Lois shook her head, "We've been working over our contacts, no news since she was last seen being carried off by those dementor things." She sighed, asking, "What's Gotham like?"

Selina snorted. "Bruce actually got a delegation from the Iceberg. Scarecrow gave him a vial of concentrated fear to use on whoever's responsible, and Croc expressed his sympathies. As far as the streets, there are only two words: Hell Month, only this time, Bludhaven and Metropolis are also involved. Clark and Dick are also showing their displeasure. There's no escape."

Lois raised a questioning eyebrow, and Sheila said, "Usually in January, the criminals escape to Bludhaven or Metropolis to get away from Bats. About the only ones he doesn't put in traction are the working girls on the street." Slapping her fist, she cried, "Damnit! I was so close to her! She must have been carried right by me! But…"

"But you were unconscious," Lois said. "You were out for a week and a half. Since then, we've done everything humanly possible to find her."

"Including searching that courtroom, and those corridors," Selina said. "Twice. We'll find her. What's the status on the newspaper project?"

"On track for an end-of-June launch," Lois said. "We've got sports and financial sections by buying out two specialty papers, Quidditch Daily and Wizarding Business. We're leasing The Quibbler's presses and owls for production and distribution; we have a good core of reporters from other papers, including the Prophet. We have display ads in every wizarding publication we can find." She pulled an ad out of a folder, sliding it over to Selina as she added, "We're still weak on local stringers, but they'll come in. Three questions for the publisher, though?"

"What are they, Ms. Managing Editor?" Selina asked.

"We're settled on calling this The Reporter, subscription rates, and what kind of slant do we want?"

"That's your call, Lois," Selina said. "We're happy with that title, and I'd prefer no slant at all. Hard news, claws unsheathed to draw blood. Subscription rates, if we make a profit, wonderful, but we're trying to gain market share now. That's why the newsstand rate of five sickles, subscription at two, and the free month's delivery, we're undercutting the Prophet." She flipped through a broadsheet copy, adding, "By the way, I like the idea of having Pettigrew as the editorial cartoonist. Is there any way to get the paper out before Hogwarts lets out, though?"

Lois shook her head, "No, no way. Sorry. We'll sign Peter on, but anonymously. He's too good an information source to go public. Sheila has one of her legal friends from Butterbeer doing a legal news column, with an analysis of current Ministry rulings. No, Monday, June 28th should be a _most_ interesting day."

**_

* * *

Monday, May 10, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Creatures:16:07  
_**

* * *

"Girl, you look done in!" 

Alicia looked up, and said, "I feel it, but at least I still have a job." She accepted the hot tea from her mate, musing, "I don't know what I'm going to do if Stephanie wants to play Quidditch."

"She got her letter?" Alicia nodded, her friend patting her on the shoulder. "I've got some good news, then. The jumble lists came out, there's some Hogwarts equipment on it."

"Oh, my! That means that a student's in Azkaban! I couldn't possibly…"

"There's nothing you can do for them. You know that," Alicia sighed and reluctantly nodded, and Donna Kirke continued, "You might as well snap up the uniforms and such while you can. I paid sixty-five galleons for Andrew's books and supplies last year, if you can get Stephanie's for twenty, you should snatch the opportunity. This includes girl's uniforms, textbooks and such." She patted Alicia's shoulder, repeating, "You can't do anything for that poor girl. Now chin up, and send the next client in, please."

**_

* * *

Friday, May 14, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Staff lunchroom: 20:35  
_**

* * *

"SOLD! Lot 232, assorted Hogwarts equipment, to buyer 18!" 

Alicia stood, walking to the back of the room to pay the twenty-two galleons for the large oak trunk marked 'HMW'. Her mother would help in altering the uniforms to fit her daughter. She told herself, "_I will not cry for that missing child and her parents. I won't_."

**_

* * *

Wednesday, May 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:48  
_**

* * *

"One final item," the Headmaster said. "The Wayne's have endowed a scholarship fund. It will cover all seven years of a student's expenses, including some pocket money, and there are four openings per year. If you know of a promising student, the address for their foundation is on your copy of today's agenda." He looked somber, asking, "Is there any other business?" 

Pomona Sprout said, "I have a bit of business, but it only relates to the Heads. I'd appreciate a minute of their time before we go off to our classes."

"Pomona, would you like me to stay?" Albus asked, and she nodded. "In that case, have a good day, everyone, and meeting adjourned." As the faculty left, Albus levitated the tea set around.

As the door closed, Pomona stirred her tea; asking, "Does everyone remember Peter Jones? He had to leave school early a few years ago?"

"Acceptable potion grades on his OWLs, as I recall," Severus said. "Didn't he have to support his family due to a death?"

Pomona nodded, "Exactly. His parents were murdered by Death Eaters; he had to find a job to supplement his grandparents' pensions. They're in the Orkney's; his younger sister is a firstie in your house, Filius."

Flitwick nodded, "Rachael. She's on a scholarship. As I recall, she's doing very well in your class, Severus."

Severus nodded, adding, "As amusing as this is, I fail to see the point of this reminiscing."

"The point, Severus, is that I got an owl from Mr. Jones late last night. Before I read his letter, I would ask your impressions of Miss Wayne's character?"

"I understand Alastair had difficulty deciding between Gryffindor and Slytherin for her," Albus said. "While the pranks she participated in were amusing, there were none harmful. I found her a joy to teach, with a quick, ready mind. Severus?"

The potion master slowly responded, "She needed remedial spellwork, but most muggleborn students do. Her other marks were adequate. No real discipline problems, and on the whole, she was a most acceptable student for her year."

"She had a great deal of courage, and was not afraid to stand up for her beliefs," Minerva said. "As Severus said, she needed help with spells and charms, but that was not unexpected." She looked at Sprout, and said, "Out with it, Pomona."

"She's worth saving?" she asked rhetorically, and Filius said, "They're all worth that."

Sprout cleared her throat, and unrolled a parchment. "'Dear Professor Sprout,' it starts, and then goes through the usual pleasantries, 'As you know, I'm working as a guard at Azkaban. We recently had a new inmate arrive, a ten year old girl wearing Slytherin colours, last name of Wayne.'" Pomona held up her hand as people bolted upright. "It goes on to say, 'She was accused and convicted of the attempted murder of Minister Fudge by the AK, and was sentenced to life. She's down on level nine of the lifer's wing, and as of my shift yesterday, was still alive.'"

Pomona looked at Severus, and continued, "'What is your opinion of her character? There was no evidence included with her file from the Ministry, which is not the normal procedure, only the note 'Evidence to follow'. While this isn't the first case like this I've seen come in, she seemed very level-headed and asked several very uncomfortable questions of the warden, questions that I would like answered myself. I found it very unusual that she wasn't panicking at the thought of Azkaban, as most new inmates do.'" Sprout looked around the table; then picked up the letter, "He finishes, 'What can you tell me of this case? If you think she's worth helping, I'll do what I can, which isn't much for someone with a life sentence. Apparently, she is somehow linked to the Death Eaters by the Ministry, which I find rather strange for a ten-year-old girl. I am off Wednesday and Thursday, I await your owl at home. Sincerely, Peter Jones'"

Sprout looked at the table, and asked, "What do I tell him?"

"The possibility of Miss Wayne being a Death Eater and attempting the life of that idiot Fudge is extremely unlikely," Severus said. "If Miss Wayne _or_ a member of her Clan wanted Fudge dead, he would be, quickly, efficiently, and without a trail back to them." Filius looked at him in alarm, and Severus waved him down. "You need not worry Filius; I have not been hiding a killer in my dormitories. Miss Wayne and her Clan hew to their oaths like iron. She would no more take a life than you could fly to the moon." He steepled his fingers, and mused, "While this may be the one thing to change their minds, they are not a Clan I would like angry at me." He looked up, and said, "What do we tell the Waynes', and the students?"

"We tell the students and the rest of the faculty nothing for now," Albus said. "There is no point in raising false hopes. Pomona, I suggest you selectively edit your reply to Mr. Jones. If I may have a copy of that letter, I will forward it to the Wayne's, and ask for their counsel and assistance. If you have contacts within the DMLE or the Aurors that you trust, it would be well to confirm this. Until then, we shall see what develops. For now, I think our classes call."

As everyone stood, Severus said, "Send one of those e-mails to Miss Wayne's sister-in-law Barbara. She seems to be the communication center for her Clan."

**_

* * *

Wednesday, May 19, 1999:  
Gotham city, Oracle's clock tower: 05:13 (GMT-5)  
_**

* * *

A soft ping announced an incoming email. Barbara turned, and looked at the sender: Albus Dumbledore. Swallowing hard, she clicked on it with a shaking hand. 

_To: Barbara Grayson  
From: Albus Dumbledore  
Subject: Miss Wayne  
_

_Mrs. Grayson, _

_New information has come to us this morning regarding your sister-in-law. There is a **possibility** that she is alive; our information is that she has been falsely convicted of attempted murder and sentenced to a life term in Azkaban prison. We are attempting to confirm this through other means. _

_I have not informed the students and other faculty, as I did not wish to raise false hopes. Only the Heads of our four houses are aware of this. I have transcribed the relevant passages from the letter we received below. _

_I await your counsel, and Hogwarts stands ready to assist in whatever method we might. _

_Sincerely,  
Albus Dumbledore  
Headmaster  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _

She looked at Mattie's clock, her gift from Christmas, and touched the speed-dial for Selina's cell phone. It rang a few times; then she answered in a dull voice, "Selina."

"Selina? Babs. Get over here NOW. This is something you have to see." She forwarded the email to Bruce's private account; then called Lois.

"Lois? Babs. I'm forwarding an email to your private account. Read it, and then meet Clark on the roof. I'm paging him now; you'll both want to be here." With a few keystrokes, she forwarded the mail; then picked up the phone from Bruce.

"Bruce? You read it? Yeah, I was shocked. I've called in the troops to meet here and decide what to do. Clark is picking up Lois, Selina's on her way here. I haven't gotten hold of Dick yet. Right, see you shortly."

"Clark? Babs. Can you pick up Lois on the Planet's roof and fly her here? I just got a very interesting email and I'm calling in the Clan. I've sent her a copy. Right, see you shortly."

"Dick? Got a really interesting email, how close are you to the station? Okay, the gist of it is that Mattie may be alive. Yes, I'm calling in everyone; get here when your stakeout is over. Love ya babe, gotta go. Bye!"

"Hey, Doc? Babs. Got a really interesting email, how soon can you get to the Tower? 'Kay, see you soon."

She tapped her keyboard, forwarding the email, then speed-dialed again. "Sheila? Babs. Sending you an interesting email, it looks like we'll be visiting London sooner than we thought. We'll video-conference you in when everyone gets here, should be in about twenty or thirty minutes. Right, bye." She sighed, adding to herself, "I hate politicians."

**_

* * *

Wednesday, May 19, 1999:  
Bludhaven, police stakeout: 05:15  
_**

* * *

"Dick? You look like you saw a ghost," Amy Rohrback said. 

"Na. They're translucent," he mumbled, then shook his head. "That was Babs; she just got an email that says my sister may be alive." He shook his head; then reached out a trembling hand for his coffee cup.

Amy reached out to steady his Styrofoam cup. "So what are you gonna do?"

"Dunno. I want to start running toward Gotham, grab the next flight to London. But we gotta wait for Torque to show up." He pounded his fist on the dash, spilling his coffee, and shouting, "Damnit!"

"Calm down, Mr. Grayson," Amy said. "I understand. We'll talk to the Captain when we get in. Will a couple hours matter?"

"I guess not," he said. He checked his watch, then said, "D'you think Branson and Dettrick would mind showing up a bit early?"

"Can't hurt to call in and ask," she said. "What about your leave time, though?"

"Screw my leave time, Amy, I don't care about that," he said. "This is my sister. This is _Mattie_. If I need to, I'll hand in my gun and shield to the Captain right there. My god, my sister is _alive._ How could I not go?"

She laid a hand on his arm, saying, "Hey, I understand. Let me see if I can get hold of Branson or Dettrick, ok?"

**_

* * *

Wednesday, May 19, 1999:  
Metropolis, Daily Planet newsroom:05:15  
_**

* * *

Lois stared at her computer, her mind whirling, "Oh, my god, oh, my god." With a shaking hand, she reached out to print the message, only to be stopped by her husband's hand. 

"Let me see," he asked. She sat back, shaking like a leaf, whispering, "She's alive. _Alive_."

"Not confirmed," Clark whispered.

"But …"

"How's your story, finished?" She nodded jerkily, and he said, "Go send it, and I'll go talk to Perry while you finish up. Five minutes, ok?" She nodded, and shakily reached out a hand to the picture of the laughing black haired girl with green eyes, riding on Clark's shoulders. Clark gently squeezed his wife's shoulders, and then walked toward Perry White's office.

Clark knocked on the open doorframe, asking, "Got a minute, Chief?" Perry waved him in, and Clark took a seat, closing the door. He asked, "Remember our god-daughter, Mattie?"

"Yeah, a real tragedy, that. Why do you ask?"

"We just got a call from Gotham that she may be alive," Perry's head snapped up, and Clark continued, "It's unconfirmed at this point, but we …"

"This is regarding that business Lois had with the Queen?"

Clark nodded, adding, "We still can't talk about it. Sorry."

"Damn, I wish you could. You need time off again?"

"I wish we could write it, Perry, it's a heck of a story. But with Mattie, you understand…"

"Yeah, it's too bad you can't have some of your own." He sighed, asking, "What about Lois' story?"

"She was sending it when I left."

Perry turned and checked his computer, then said, "It's here. Personal funds, and this comes off your leave times, you understand?" Clark nodded, and Perry added, "Have a safe trip, and by god, I hope she's alive. Will you let me know?" Clark nodded again, and Perry said, "Go, then. I'll call HR and let them know. Oh, and Clark? If it's true, bring her by, I'd like to see her for myself, all right?"

"You got it, Chief."

"Don't call me Chief!"

**_

* * *

Wednesday, May 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, seventh floor corridor:10:33 (GMT)  
_**

* * *

The Clan stalked out of the transport room. A young Ravenclaw took one look at their faces and fainted. Dr. Phillips hurried over, and gently revived her. She squeaked in fear on looking up at their faces, and tried to back against a column. He hushed her, and waved the Clan back, asking, "Do you know where the Headmaster would be?" 

"In … in his office, I would think. Aren't you … "she swallowed and tried again, "Aren't you Wayne's family?" Bruce nodded grimly, and she continued, "Oh, my god, are you … you look ready to kill."

"The thought has crossed our minds," Dr. Phillips admitted, as he crouched next to her. "You're Miss Fawcett, aren't you?" She nodded, and he smiled at her, saying, "Don't worry, we're not angry at you, and we're sorry we frightened you. Would you know the Headmaster's office password by any chance?" She shook her head, and he asked, "Would you like us to help you to the Infirmary?" She violently shook her head, and tried to stand. She swayed a bit, and the doctor said, "I'll help you to the Infirmary, and no arguments, young lady." He helped her up, saying to the others, "I'll meet you later. If I remember right, the Infirmary's on the third floor."

* * *

Professor McGonagall looked up, then said, "Dr. Phillips, what is the matter with Miss Fawcett?" 

He deposited her gently on a bed, smiled at Sprink, and said, "I'm afraid that we frightened her rather badly when we arrived, as our moods were not the best. She bumped her head, it looks like a mild concussion, and I thought it best to bring her here. What's the problem with Miss Tonks?"

"A misfired transfiguration spell," she turned, and said, "Oh, Poppy, you heard?"

"Don't worry, dear, you'll be right as rain in a minute," the nurse said as she bent over Susan Fawcett.

Dr. Phillips turned to leave, and Susan called, "Um, Healer Phillips?" He sat on her bed, and smiled at her, and she said, "I… I really wanted to say I'm sorry about Mattie. I mean, I owe her my life and …" she started to cry, and he pulled her into a hug as Sprink started to cry too. He held out his arm, and she cried on his other shoulder. After a few minutes, handkerchiefs were passed around, and he said, "Thanks. It helps to know she had friends." He gave both girls a hug; then said, "We'll see you later, all right?"

**_

* * *

Wednesday, May 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office: 10:41  
_**

* * *

Minerva said, "_Fainting Fancies_" to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, and it moved aside, allowing them access. He gestured politely, and she preceded him into the room. 

The Headmaster stood, dusting off his knees as he finished a firecall. He asked, "Minerva, how is Miss Fawcett?"

"Poppy said she'll be fine." The Headmaster nodded, and she said, "I understand she was a bit frightened when you arrived."

"I do apologize for that," Bruce said. "As you can understand, we were understandably upset to get the Headmaster's email."

"With good reason, I believe," Albus said. "Your expressions startled me! Healer Phillips, would you like to see the original letter?" He nodded, and it was passed over, as the Headmaster continued, "Mr. Shacklebolt was able to confirm, very unofficially mind you, that others have met a similar fate in Azkaban. Unfortunately, there is nothing to be done for those poor souls." He held up a hand, and said, "I do not include Miss Wayne in that. I have a copy here of her official DMLE file, which none of you have seen, of course. Miss Hawking, I believe you would be the best judge of how to use this."

"Who is Mr. Shacklebolt?" Dick asked.

"Chief Auror," Babs replied, startling Minerva. "Like the chief inspector of the FBI."

"So how do we find her?" Dick asked, returning the scroll.

"I presume she is still wearing the tracking charm Severus gave her," Albus said. "Mr. MacDonald, who was standing in line behind her, did not see her give it to the guard outside the courtroom. She did, however give him a gold locket that I hope was not too valuable." He took a sip of tea, continuing, "However, that tracking charm is blocked by the unplottable spell on Azkaban Island. However, there are other methods. Try a '_Point me_' spell."

Minerva looked at him, then held out her wand on her flat palm, and said, "Point me, Albus Dumbledore." The wand spun, and pointed across the room. She nodded; then said, "Point me, Mattie Wayne." The wand spun, stopped pointing northeast.

"Then all we need is to triangulate the position," Dick said. "Once we have it located, we can have one of you pop over there and drop a GPS on it, and then it's mapped down to a few meters."

"Half a meter, dear," Babs said. "You forget I'm using my own GPS beacons."

"Excuse me," Minerva asked. "What is GPS, and how much is half a meter?"

"GPS is the Global Positioning System. It uses a system of satellites to locate any spot on earth. For our purposes, it has an accuracy of half a meter, or about eighteen inches." Babs held her hands apart, then pulled a small device from her bag, "Here's my location and altitude as I'm sitting in this chair." Minerva got up and looked over her shoulder, then gasped, shocked. Babs handed it to her, saying, "Go sit down in your chair, and watch the display change."

Albus walked the device back to Babs, saying "The only problem with the plan is that we cannot simply 'pop' into Azkaban. It is blocked with Apparition wards."

"Seagulls and other birds fly through those wards, don't they?" Dick asked.

Minerva nodded, asking "Are you thinking of a rescue mission?"

"I think not," Albus said, and Selina whirled on him, stalking toward him with blood in her eye. "That's my _daughter_!" she hissed, while Albus backed up quickly. "Please, Mrs. Wayne, I meant no offense! I was only thinking of a scouting mission, to determine her status. Mr. Wayne?" Albus was backed up against a bookcase, four very angry women inches from him.

"What about a scouting mission? What do you suggest, Mr. Dumbledore?" Bruce said, standing behind his wife, a cold look in his eye. Albus swallowed, saying, "It is better, I think, to find the lay of the land first. This will enable us to determine our options."

"I'm going on it," Selina said with finality, as she stepped away from the Headmaster. That broke the tension, and Albus suggested, "I would also suggest Minerva. She is our transfiguration expert, which should prove most useful."

"How do we get there, and how big is this place?" Babs asked. "Do we have any sort of internal plans?

"There are two people on staff that have been there, Hagrid and Harry," Minerva said. "However, I do not believe that either one have been in the wing devoted to those with life sentences. I know of two former colleagues of Severus' that have, Bellatrix Black and Peter Pettigrew."

"I think for the moment that we had best make an appearance of normality," the Headmaster said. "Mr. Wayne, would you like to use your suite again? We can have Miss Tonks join you for lunch, and she can call her aunt Bella and invite her to floo over."

Minerva asked, "What about Peter?"

"Tomorrow morning, perhaps, Mrs. Lane might find an interview productive. Mr. Pettigrew is making a somewhat marginal living as a street artist." The Headmaster smiled, continuing, "With Minerva's consent, I shall join you as your backup. I would like to get out of the castle for a change, and perhaps the Weasley twins might have a suggestion or two."

* * *

There was a knock on the door, and Sprink came in, running to Selina's open arms and crying. After a few minutes, she ran down, asking, "Is it true? Is she alive?" 

"We don't know," Bruce said gently. "We're planning a reconnaissance mission on Azkaban, but we don't have any inside information. Professor McGonagall said that your aunt Bellatrix had been there, we were hoping you could call her, invite her for lunch, and we could talk."

"Let me give her a firecall." Sprink took a bit of floo powder, threw it in the fire, calling "Bellatrix Black!" After a few minutes, she stood up, dusting off the knees of her tights, and backing away. Bellatrix stepped out of the fire, saying, "Good morning."

* * *

"I would be most happy to help," Bellatrix said. "However, I find myself forced by circumstance to be practical." Bruce motioned for her to go on, and Bella sipped her tea, adding, "Employment opportunities for former Death Eaters are, shall we say…" 

"… a bit scarce?" Sheila asked. "Before you became entangled with Mr. Voldemort, what were your plans?"

"I had hoped to become a healer, as my sister has," Bella confessed. "I wound up doing some of that during the war, as St. Mungo's was off limits to us." She looked at Sheila, asking, "Is that still possible?"

"It is, with a few conditions." Sheila settled back, steepling her fingers and saying, "You would receive a Wayne Foundation grant to study medicine, both muggle and magical. This grant would cover your living expenses, some pocket money, clothing, tuition, books, and supplies, including a laptop computer. We will provide you a comfortable furnished apartment that you will share with another witch in our program. What you tell her is up to you." She smiled thinly, adding, "It's not Buckingham Palace, finances would be a bit tight for you, as they are for all college students, but neither is it hot and cold running vermin. This is an apartment building we have purchased and renovated near Cambridge University, using a wizarding contractor. We will provide suitable background, documentation, and so forth to enable you to live in the muggle world, where they do not know Bellatrix Black."

"Agreeable," Bellatrix said. "My part of the bargain would be…"

"You would learn the material, including your cover material. You will maintain the equivalent of 'Acceptable' or better marks in your classes," Sheila said. Holding up a hand, she warned, "You are looking at four years of medical school and then three years of residency _before_ you start on the Healer's program at St. Mungo's. Being dual-certified and licensed in both the magical and muggle worlds will be a definite bonus for you, however. We can provide you with a false identity, although we would prefer not to. Your accounts would be set up with Gringotts, where we have an arrangement. This education will provide you a legitimate entry into St. Mungo's intern program." Sheila asked, "Do you have a legal wand?"

Bella sipped her tea, contemplating. "I do. I smell a condition, however."

"We will, on occasion, require some … 'off book' medical support. Aside from that, you will be a typical medical student, one who just happens to be a witch." Sheila sipped her tea, adding, "Of course, the Unforgivables remain just that."

"Of course," Bella said. She gazed at them; then said, "I accept."

"Excellent!" Sheila stood, and extended her card. "Please come by my office tomorrow morning at eight. We'll get the paperwork sorted, and then take a trip by our tailor and Gringott's. Now, what can you tell us about Azkaban's layout?"

**_

* * *

Thursday, May 20, 1999:  
London, Diagon Alley, Florean Forescue's Ice Cream: 10:13  
_**

* * *

"Mr. Pettigrew, I presume?" Lois asked. 

The small man in the wheelchair looked up, saying, "I am, Miss …?"

"Lane. Lois Lane. May I join you?" At his nod, she smoothed her skirt, while he gazed speculatively at her. She nodded her head at the man sitting a few yards away, reading the Prophet, a cup of cooling tea next to him. Quietly, she asked, "That is…?"

"My DMLE minder," he replied quietly. He picked up a board, attaching a sheet of parchment, and started to sketch. "I know you, Ms. Lane. You did that rather nice series of articles about Lucius and Fudge." His eyes flicked about, saying, "Not wise for a muggle like you to come here without a bodyguard."

"I have one, Mr. Pettigrew, thank you. What's good here?"

He nodded, "Florean's tea is excellent, unless you prefer coffee." She nodded, and Pettigrew waved toward the counter. "What can I do for you, Ms. Lane? Are you looking at a follow-up series?"

"Possibly. What I've heard about civil rights in the wizarding world appalls me. However, right now, I'm more interested in Azkaban prison." She nodded at his developing sketch, asking, "Your rates for your artwork?"

"Ah, you understand that a poor artist such as I must eat," he said a bit louder, as Florean appeared with a tea service. "Would you be Mother, please?" Pettigrew switched to his right hand, adding, "Call me Peter, would you?"

"I'm Lois. Thank you," she said to the waiter, handing him several galleons. "On Mr. Pettigrew's account, please." He nodded, moving off as Lois added quietly, "I didn't know you were ambidextrous."

"My right hand is better for straight lines and fine detail, my left for caricatures. Thank Merlin I was able to get my right hand regrown. That magical hand had no sensitivity, no finesse. It was a blunt instrument, useful only for spellcasting." He looked at Lois, and asked, "Will you be returning to Hogwarts any time soon?"

"Later today, why?"

"I would ask a kindness. There were two young girls, dark skinned; they were wearing Ravenclaw Quidditch robes." Lois nodded, and Peter continued, "I would like to apologize to them, and to Mr. Potter. I … well, I was weak. I should have stood up to Lucius, he's the only one of that lot that wants the Dark Lord back, with the possible exception of Bellatrix. It's not an excuse for what I did, I know, but I'd like the chance to say it to them personally. I understand if they don't want to…"

"I don't think Ms. Black is too enamored of the Dark Lord either, but that's her business," Lois said. "I'll pass on your message, though, although the decision is theirs of course. Now, what can you tell me about Azkaban prison?"

"You are aware that the Dementors can't sense animals? I believe that's how Sirius was able to escape, in his dog form." Peter continued to sketch quietly, adding, "My own form is that of a rat. I have some communication abilities with other rats, so I was able to get a good idea of the patterns of the guards. A lazy, brutal lot they are." He looked at Lois, asking, "Who is it, and what's their sentence?" He switched hands again.

"My god-daughter, and Fudge gave her a life sentence," Lois said, the rage evident in her voice. "She's only ten, and…"

"And she's a firstie? She must be quite the witch," Peter said. "I assume she's somehow inconvenient to Fudge, as I doubt you'd have the same aura if she was guilty of whatever she's charged with," he mused, whispering, "_CALM DOWN_! You're attracting the attention of that dolt!" Raising his voice, he said, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but that's the price of a group portrait! You can take it or leave it!" Whispering again, he added, "Do you know of the Marauder's Map?" She shook her head fractionally, and he whispered, "Ask Remus about it."

"I'll do that," Lois said, then raised her voice, "That's fine! I'll be in contact to schedule your visit!"

Peter tore off parchment from his pad, inserting it in a folder, adding, "Your portrait is two galleons, ma'am. I look forward to painting your family." Lois passed over several coins, and with a stiff nod, took her leave.

* * *

Across the street, Lois made eye contact with her bodyguard as she entered Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She started to poke around as the flatulent doorbell sounded again. A young redheaded man asked, "We don't get too many muggles in here, ma'am. May I fetch something to eat or drink?" 

"Mr. Weasley, I presume?" He nodded, and she said, "Thank you, no. I'm waiting for someone."

"Who is here, Mr. Weasley," the bearded, brown haired wizard said. "Ms. Lane is with me. May we borrow your back room for a few minutes?"

The young redhead gazed at him; then softly said, "Whatever we can do to help, Professor Dumbledore. I'll be back in a moment." He nodded, then walked over to a dreadlocked fellow, saying, "Oy, Lee. Can you watch for a minute? I'll be in the back."

* * *

"Well, now," he said, holding out his hand. "Fred Weasley, at your service. May I offer you some tea? Unadulterated, I might add." 

"Lois Lane, Mr. Weasley. Please, call me Lois."

"Smashing articles you wrote, Lois. Planning on a follow-up? How can we help?"

"Actually, I'm here in regard to my god-daughter, Mattie Wayne. She's been imprisoned, and …"

"… And you're looking to break her out," Fred said. "I wondered why our owls came back undeliverable. If she's in Azkaban, and you're with the Headmaster, she must be a bother to Fudge. Unfortunately, we don't have much information on Azkaban."

"We've got some from Mr. Pettigrew and Ms. Black," Lois said, and Fred held up a hand. "Excuse me? Did you say Pettigrew and Black, as in Bellatrix Black? How reliable is that information?"

Dumbledore spoke up, "So far, Ms. Black's information tallies with that of Hagrid and Harry's. We need to contact Remus regarding something called the 'Marauder's Map'."

Fred laughed, "I can help you there. Is this the information from Pettigrew?" Lois nodded, taking Peter's sketch of Lois from the folder, and laying it on a scarred wooden table. Fred drew his wand, tapping the sketch; saying, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." The sketch dissolved, and lines appeared on the parchment, diagramming the prison. He tapped it again, saying, "Find Mattie Wayne." The parchment blanked for a minute; then another diagram appeared. He whistled, saying, "Nice bit of spellcasting there."

"Peter always was adept at charms and spells," Dumbledore said. He looked at the diagram, musing, "If this is correct, Miss Wayne is indeed alive."

"The Map doesn't show ghosts or dead people. Unfortunately, the Ministry twits are the only ones that know where Azkaban is," Fred mentioned. "May I make a copy of this?"

Lois glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded slightly. She said, "Certainly, and we're working on that particular problem."

**_

* * *

Thursday, May 20, 1999:  
Aberdeen, Scotland  
_**

* * *

"Point me, Mattie Wayne." 

"Eight degrees west of north."

**_

* * *

Thursday, May 20, 1999:  
John O'Groats, Scotland  
_**

* * *

"Point me, Mattie Wayne." 

"Thirty-three degrees east of north."

**_

* * *

Thursday, May 20, 1999:  
Kirkwall, Orkney Islands, Scotland  
_**

* * *

"Point me, Mattie Wayne." 

"Fifteen degrees north of east."

**_

* * *

Thursday, May 20, 1999:  
Balfour, Sharpinsay Island, Orkney Islands, Scotland  
_**

* * *

"Point me, Mattie Wayne." 

"Two degrees south of east. Damn, it's cold here!"

"Colder for her. Where next?"

**_

* * *

Thursday, May 20, 1999:  
Grobister, Stronsay Island, Orkney Islands, Scotland  
_**

* * *

"Point me, Mattie Wayne." 

"Ten degrees east of south. Damn, we've done it! I could almost see it from this hill, I think." Dick shivered in his coat, and said, "Thanks, Harry."

"My pleasure, mate, too bad about the fog. Shall we get back to Hogwarts?" Dick nodded, and they apparated away.

**_

* * *

Thursday, May 20, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Wayne suite: 17:13  
_**

* * *

Bellatrix whistled at the Azkaban map, shaking her head. "I always thought Pettigrew was sneakier than he let on. He should have been sorted into Slytherin." 

"I do not believe that would have been the wisest course for Mr. Pettigrew at the time," the Headmaster said, restored to his aged appearance. "He is one of those individuals that require tempering in a fire. The question here is if that selfsame fire will warp Miss Wayne's metal, or make it stronger." He took a sip of tea, adding, "It would be preferable for Miss Wayne to be released legally, of course. However, we must plan for other contingencies. Mr. Wayne, Mr. Kent, Mr. Grayson, Ms. Hawking and I will work on securing her legal release, while Mrs. Wayne, if you …"

"Will plan her jailbreak," Selina said with a smile. "It won't be the first one."

**_

* * *

Saturday, May 22, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Wayne suite: 11:43  
_**

* * *

Barbara said with a smile, "Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, may I present to you … (Dick drummed on a table) Azkaban prison!" With a flourish, she flipped a switch, and above a circular stainless steel table, a solid three-dimensional figure appeared. 

"Amazing, truly amazing," Pomona said as she moved about the table. "How is it done?"

"It's a magnetic resonance field, generated by three sensors Dick and Clark installed on this tower here," Babs said, as she reached to touch the diagram. "The field is a kilometer in diameter, or about thirty two hundred feet. It goes from Azkaban up to a satellite, and down to our unit here. I'm not showing structural members, and as you can see, it's live data, people are moving in it."

"Magnetic? What is it reading?" Severus asked.

"It detects the iron in blood. The computer assigns the color coding and numbers. You'll notice that most of the people are behind iron bars, wearing iron chains," she pointed. "Red for females, blue for males, and the yellow color is for unknowns."

"Those have to be dementors. What about that black one on the third level?" Pomona asked.

"He's dead, they just haven't removed him from the cell," Barbara said. "If you notice something else, it will give you size readings down to five kilos in mass. You see the cats in the prison, and if you look here, you'll see these two small inmates, one male, one female that are very close to the warden's office."

Pomona gasped, "Is that Miss Wayne?"

Barbara shook her head, looking disgusted, "No, she's down over here. Those children I think are the warden's _special_, _permanent_ 'guests'."

* * *


	23. Classes, Week 40, First year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

**

* * *

23 – Classes, Week 40, First year  
**

* * *

**_Monday, May 24, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Wayne suite: 08:15  
_**

* * *

Selina looked up from her notes as Bruce came out of their bedroom. Smiling, she sauntered over to her husband, and played with his tie, saying, "I wish I was going." 

"So do I. It's going to be hard enough not ripping that idiot's head off," he murmured.

"Clark and Dick will keep an eye on you."

"Yeah. How are you doing on your jailbreak?"

Selina sighed, "This entire wizarding world seems so complacent. Would you believe we haven't seen one guard looking _OUT_ of the prison? They seem to work on the 'lock 'em up and forget 'em theory." She sighed, then brightened, "At least Mattie seems to be doing as well as could be expected, but she's lost about ten pounds."

"We'll get her out. One way or another," Bruce promised. He kissed his wife, adding, "Next week's her birthday, after all."

**_

* * *

Monday, May 24, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister Fudge's office: 08:30  
_**

* * *

"Here we are, Mr. Wayne. The Ambassador and I wish you good luck. I'll wait out here for you." 

"Thank you, Mr. West," Bruce replied, shaking his hand. "I don't anticipate this taking too long." He smiled at the secretary, telling her, "Bruce Wayne, to see the Minister. We have an appointment."

Bruce advanced toward the Minister, hand outstretched, while Clark trailed along, carrying his bag. The minister's eyes flicked toward it, ignoring Dick, who took up a parade rest position near the door. The young Auror on bodyguard duty looked him over, her shocking green hair spilling over the shoulders of her gold robes, and licked her lips. Dick shook his head slightly, raising his left hand to show his wedding ring. They eyed each other, reading: _cop_.

"Minister Fudge! How kind of you to take time out of your busy schedule," Bruce said as he shook hands.

Fudge seemed somewhat disappointed there wasn't something left in his palm afterward, but carried on. "What can I do for you, Mr. Wayne?"

"Well, there seems to be a small mix-up with my daughter, Minister. She somehow disappeared while giving testimony about a terrorist; then was declared dead." Bruce shook his head, adding, "It's _so_ difficult to get good help these days. My information has her alive, but in your prison on Azkaban Island. I'd like to get her out of there, next week's her birthday, you see."

"Ah, well, you see, Mr. Wayne, there's a slight problem," Fudge said. "Your daughter was convicted of attempted murder using the killing curse. You see, I can't possibly release her."

"I'm sure that's simply an error in the records, Minister. After all, from what I've heard, from several very reputable sources, mind you, she was drugged with twice the recommended dosage of your truth serum. Why, she could hardly stand, and the guards had confiscated her wand!" Bruce leaned forward, adding, "How could a ten year old girl cast a spell, much less one of these killing curses, when she couldn't see to aim a wand she didn't have?"

The green haired guard looked at Fudge with shock, but Bruce wasn't finished. As the Minister hemmed and hawed, he smiled; standing and asking, "My information has your wedding anniversary next Tuesday, the first. Isn't that right, Mr. Fudge? Well, I'm sure that your wife would appreciate the present YOU'RE giving her."

Clark stood, walking over and dropping the bag on the Minister's desk. The oak desk shuddered and creaked, while Clark unzipped the bag, extracting a dirty black rock from it. He dropped it on the Minister's parchment-covered desk, and a loud 'crack' was heard. The Minister stared at the dusty, dirty rock on his desk. Clark grinned, and said, "Allow me to clean that up for you, Minister." He casually picked the grapefruit sized rock up with his left hand, and dusted it off. Taking it in both hands, he smiled and started to squeeze.

With a loud creaking and groaning noise, the rock disappeared into a dust cloud. After a minute, Clark waved the dust away, and an orange sized diamond lay in his hand. He tossed it from one hand to another, holding it up to the light, where it reflected around the office. "Pretty, isn't it?" Clark asked with a smile, before putting it down amid the dust and debris on the Minister's desk.

"That's an interesting parlour trick. Does he juggle, too?" Fudge smirked.

Bruce smiled, "No. Now, about my daughter…"

"Well, there are enormous difficulties involved; after all, she was convicted…"

"Wrong answer, Fudge!" Bruce snarled; all pretense gone. He reached across the Minister's desk, dragging him through the papers and holding him up by the collar with his left hand. "I want my daughter returned to me, alive and healthy, with her good name restored, or else!" He shook the small man as he dangled from his fist, feet kicking. The Auror started forward, but Dick put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her and shaking his head.

Fudge squeaked, "Are you threatening me?"

Bruce pulled him eye to eye. He shook his head, "That's a _promise_, Fudge."

Clark cleared his throat, and held out the diamond. As Fudge watched, he closed his fist over it, and with a popping noise, it was reduced to dust and tiny slivers. A foul smell came from Fudge's robes, and a small yellow trickle came out of his trouser leg. Bruce smiled, seating the minister on the battered desk.

Clark tisked, "Such a mess," as he scooped up meteorite debris in his hand. With a flex of his shoulders, he extracted a thumb-sized diamond from the mess, and tossed it to the stunned Auror.

Bruce dusted himself off, and as he strode by the girl, he said with a smile, "Write your sister, Ms. Tonks. She's been depressed since her room-mate was imprisoned."

* * *

As Mr. West got up, Dick held up his hand, and put an ear to the door. With a grin, he interpreted the faint shouts coming from the other side. "Fudge wants her diamond. Tonks is refusing, loudly. Wait, here she comes!" He scooted over to stand next to Bruce, and turned with a puzzled look as she stormed out the door, gold robes flapping. You could see a large white stain on the back of her robes as she pulled them off with a snarl. Bruce smiled at her, asking, "Ms. Tonks?" 

She took a deep breath to calm herself, asking, "Are you going to Hogwarts?" Bruce nodded, and she asked, "Mind if I join you? I'd like to see my sister for lunch."

"Not at all," Dick said.

* * *

Tonks stumbled out of the fireplace, grumbling. She looked up, and caught her sister's hug, asking, "How've you been, Squidge?" 

Sprink shrugged, "I've been better. How's life in the Ministry?

"It's been better. Merlin, what's that?" Tonks said, looking at the large model.

"Azkaban prison," Babs said. "It's a live model, you can watch as guards move around."

"_Merlin_! How'd you …"

"Nymphadora," Bellatrix said. She asked, "Should she see this, or should I obliviate her?"

"Aunt Bella? What's going on?"

"We're planning a jail break," Dick said. He looked at Sprink, placing his hand on Tonk's shoulder, asking, "Can she be trusted, or shall I remove her?"

Tonks flicked a look at her sister, asking, "Is what I heard true?"

"Yeah, it's true. I was there; I took out a dementor that was trying to drag her off." Sprink scrunched up her face, saying; "Ugh. Dementors taste like old, rotten meat. Blech."

"Is there a Bean for that?" Tonks asked. "How'd you get this? _Nobody_ knows where Azkaban is, much less the layout. Blimey, even the Minister doesn't know!" She shrugged off Dick's hand, and circled the table, muttering, "Gor blimey!" She looked up, asking, "How do you know who's who?"

"Sources we'd rather not name," Lois said. "I take it the Minister was less than persuaded?"

"He pissed himself, for what it's worth," Tonks admitted. "If that will convince him, I don't know. He's probably talking to that fat toad Umbridge now." She stuck a hand in the pocket of her jeans, and passed something to her sister. "Look what I got from your mates."

"Ooh, pretty, " Lois admitted as Sprink held it up. "Ten or twelve carats, I'd guess," adding, "He's mine, girls, so hands off." She sipped tea; asking, "How big was the Minister's?"

"The size of an orange," Tonks said. "Then he crushed it with one hand, you could see Fudge wanted to cry. He's a greedy bastard." She looked at Lois, asking, "How can I help?"

_**

* * *

****Tuesday, May 25, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Wayne suite: 08:50  
**_

* * *

"I wanna go! You guys need me!" 

"Miss Tonks," Minerva said, "You cannot go for the same reason that we turned down Professor Potter. Your animal form is too large. We require stealth on this mission." She gazed fondly at the girl, adding, "Off to History with you. Will I see you tonight at the DA?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sprink said, slinging her book bag over her shoulder. "You'll let me know?"

"When we know something, I will inform you. Now shoo, Severus and I expect at least A's and E's on your examinations next week, that is why we allowed you to stay." Minerva smiled as the door closed behind Sprink; asking, "Are we ready?"

"Selina's waiting for you in there," Bruce said. "Your phone is set to vibrate?"

"When it does, I find a quiet place, open it and press the green button, correct?" Minerva asked.

"Correct. Red ends the call. To call me, open it, press the number one, then the green button," Barbara said. "I'll answer, and we'll go from there."

* * *

"Welcome to Azkaban Island, ladies," Clark said with a smile as he set down. Selina just grinned, while Minerva let out a quiet "Oh, my!" Selina was already examining the heavy wooden door in the stone wall. Clark told her, "It's a store room, but the door's blocked on the other side." Selina passed him some oil for the iron hinges as the two women huddled at the bottom of the stone staircase, escaping the bitter wind. She stepped aside as Clark finished and gazed at the door; then inhaled, causing the door's hinges to creak as they opened for the first time in decades. Clark motioned at a small opening at the top of the pile of wooden crates. "Follow that along for about twenty feet, you'll come out in the store room proper. When you leave, three small cats should be able to squeeze out. I'll leave the door propped open about a foot. Good luck." Minerva nodded, and raised her wand, transfigured Selina into a light grey cat with yellow paws.

* * *

"This is … very strange," Selina mewed to the tabby cat next to her. 

"You get used to it," Minerva said. "Until you become adjusted to being a cat, simply follow my lead." She paused, leaping over an opening in the air duct they were following. She waited for Selina; then continued, "It was an excellent idea to use these, but we shall need to return to the corridors as soon as possible. There are supposed to be acromantula in here." Selina mewed, and Minerva clarified, "Giant spiders."

* * *

"If we have the chance, I want to check on those two children near the warden's office," Minerva said. "They remind me of twins, a boy and girl, kidnapped several months ago in Cornwall. By the by, I never found out about the autopsy on that girl Fudge tried to pass off." 

"Dr. Phillips did it, with Miss Pomfrey's assistance. She was apparently a muggle that was killed after she'd been picked up by someone at the Ministry. He packaged everything up very neatly in her coffin, included a copy of his notes, and Harry dropped her off in London at the city coroner's office." Selina miaowed in amusement at Minerva's glance, "There was nothing to indicate Hogwarts. The only thing a bit unusual, according to Dr. Phillips, is that they'll be able to tell an American did the autopsy, instead of a Brit. From what he says, there are two different styles of doing the incisions on the head." Selina shuddered, adding, "I try to keep him from explanations like that."

"Understandable. Here we are, block D. Downstairs to nine, now."

A tall form in tattered black robes went by, ignoring the two cats, and Selina asked, "What's that?"

"That was your first dementor. Had you been human, it would have hovered over you, feeding on happy emotions until you were a withered husk. There are apparently only two known ways to kill one," Minerva said, warming to her topic. "The first is what Miss Tonks and Miss Johnson did in court, rip out their throats. The second way is Mr. Potter's: shove your wand in their mouth and conjure a Patronus. In both cases, they scream while exploding into dust, while the souls of those they have kissed are released." The small calico cat shuddered, adding, "Horrible things, dementors."

* * *

The circular stairway was lit by a guttering torch on each landing. As they reached level nine, Selina glanced in her daughter's cell, but couldn't see anything in the dim light. They crept through the bars; the girl was hanging by her back-bound chained wrists over the stone platform. She cackled madly, saying, "Hello, my pretty, pretty pets. Come to mother, now; let me give you a caress, Here, kitty, kitty… Come my pretty kitties, come on, that's right, up we go." Selina looked at Minerva, she felt herself _commanded_ to jump up, to walk along the narrow ledge, to climb on her daughter's taughtly stretched back, toward her shackled hands, Minerva following behind… "There we go; such a good kitty, nice kitty, just one little word, pretty kitty, '_Imperio_!'" 

With a small 'pop', Minerva changed form with a "Miss Wayne!" while Mattie said in a normal voice, "**_Mom_**?"

* * *

"What are you two doing here?" Mattie asked. 

Minerva snorted, "What do you think; we're rescuing you, silly goose. Why are you casting Unforgivables, and how are you doing it without a wand?"

"Professor Harry said that it was legal to cast them on Beasts, so I've been …" Mattie suddenly hissed "_Guard_!" and started to sing as Minerva transformed back with a 'pop'.

"Hello, Wayne. I see your repertoire hasn't improved." He opened the door, waving a crumpet; singsonging to her, "Want a crumpet for tea?" With a hiss, a grey cat jumped off the shelf, snagging the crumpet and running out the door. The guard muttered, "Bloody cats," and drew his wand.

"Hey, asshole!" Mattie called to the guard, "Aren't you forgetting something?" He looked at her; then shrugged. She licked her lips; then looked up at him. He chuckled, undoing his pants while approaching her open mouth. She pulled back, and spat in his eye.

"**_You little bitch!_**" he shouted, backhanding her; blackening her eye. She shrugged as he slammed the cell door, and started to sing again, "I'm a little teapot, short and stout…." She continued singing, then stopped, asking, "Professor? I've told mom it's safe to come back."

"Well, that was … interesting," Minerva said as she reappeared with a pop. "What was that with the guard?" The grey cat reappeared in the cell, and Minerva waved her wand, saying, "_Finite Incantatem_."

"That wanker has been trying to get me to provide oral sex since I arrived at this _wonderful_ place, and withholding food when I wouldn't," Mattie said. "He's also the one that chained me like this, as additional 'persuasion'." The grey cat snarled, and Mattie said, "I'm sorry about that, mom, but I thought you were a cat. Forgive me?"

The grey cat walked over to her chained daughter, purring and rubbing against her shackled legs. Minerva harrumphed, and said, "We'll say nothing else about it, but I felt a distinct compulsion when I entered the cell."

"Part of that's my perimeter charm, Professor," Mattie said. "Sprink taught me a neat little trick with it, to tie it into your sense of smell. That's why I detected you, by your smell, and also how I sensed that wanker coming." Minerva nodded, and Mattie continued, "The rest of that is a combination of legilmancy and Imperious, but I don't use it on the guard, at least not yet."

"Not yet?"

"For my escape, Professor," she said, "I haven't figured out how to do it without using Imperious on a guard. Right now, I'm using it on the cats for intelligence gathering." She shrugged, "Not much else to do but exercise my mind and plan my revenge on Fudge." Her eyes glittered, and she asked, "How's everyone?"

"Your father met with Fudge yesterday, to offer him a rather toothsome bribe. When Fudge wanted more, your father and your uncle Clark converted it into a rather stern warning." Minerva smiled grimly, adding, "I wish I could have seen it, from all accounts, Fudge…"

"_Guards! Three guards and the warden_!" Mattie hissed, then started singing, "Little Mary Sunshine, all about …" as Minerva transformed again. She continued to sing as the warden stopped outside her cell.

"Wayne? Wayne? Stop singing, Wayne!"

"Why, hello, how nice of you to drop by. I'd offer you a cuppa, but my tea set seems to have wandered off," she started to whistle, calling, "Here, tea set! Here, boy! Come on, little tea set, stop hiding from mummy."

"Wayne!"

"Why, hello, how nice of you to drop by. I'd offer you a cuppa, but my tea set's wandered off again." Once more, she started to whistle, calling her tea set. One of the guards muttered, "Barmy, she is."

"Wayne! I. Don't. Want. Any. Tea."

"Oh, well, what about some scones? I've got some fresh in the oven," Mattie said, then blinked, looking around the bare stone cell, adding, "I'm so sorry, luv, I seem to have misplaced my scones, and my oven." She started to whistle again, calling her oven.

"Wayne! I. Don't. Want. Any. Tea. Or. Scones. Pay attention, now!"

"Why, certainly, luv," she seemed to settle, asking, "What can I do for you?"

"Minister Fudge, in his generosity, has decided to grant you a pardon. You will be released immediately."

Mattie looked at him, twisting her head side to side; then said, "I'm not going without my suitcase."

"You don't HAVE a suitcase!"

"I most certainly do! It's the grey one, there on the top shelf of the airing cupboard!"

Another guard whispered, "She's barmy, all right," while the warden said, slowly and distinctly, "That. Is. A. Cat."

"Suitcase!"

The warden threw up his hands, giving the papers to a guard, telling them, "Make sure that Miss Wayne's 'suitcase' is included," while she started singing "Country road, take me hoooome, to the plaaaace I belonnnng! Mountain Maaaaamaaaaa, take me hoooome, West VirGINya! Mountain Maaaama! Counnnntreeee rooooaaads, taaaaake me hoooome …" The warden stalked off while the guards sighed and entered the cell, and the cats yowled at each other.

* * *

Mattie had switched to Jimmy Buffet as she was bound. With a yowl, Minerva left to check on the twins near the warden's office as Selina the 'suitcase' cat joined Mattie in the longboat.

* * *

"Oh, my!" Minerva said to herself as she saw the two young children. They were chained by the neck to steel beds with a thin mattress and blanket. Waving her wand, she invoked spells; then transfigured the two sleeping children into kittens. She placed them in a small wicker basket; then transfigured the thin bedclothes into false children. Holding the tiny basket, she crept out of the cellblock.

* * *

"Mr. Kent," Minerva said as he appeared. He nodded, and she said, "Miss Wayne was pardoned earlier today; her mother is accompanying her in the longboat as a cat. I thought I'd best rescue these two tykes." 

She shivered, and Clark picked up a rock, glancing at it and putting it in the basket under the blanket to warm the kittens before picking Minerva and her kittens up. Aloft, Clark told Minerva, "I see the longboat; they'll reach the dock in about two hours." He added, "I hope you don't mind a bit of diversion, there's something I need to handle." She nodded, and blinked in surprise as he shimmered into a red and blue outfit, changing course as the world blurred beneath her.

* * *

With the 'crack' of a sonic boom, Minerva and the basket of kittens were left on the bank and a red and blue blur dove into the icy water. She staggered, looking around at the dirty, hardhatted men lining the bank. A hand reached out to steady her, a voice asked a question. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ah, engrish," the man said. "Welcome to China. You know Superman?"

"I teach his daughter," Minerva replied, disconcerted.

"Ah." There was a rapid patter of Chinese, and several deep bows. "We are most honored teacher of most honorable Superman's daughter visit People's Republic and Three Gorges Dam. Please excuse." With an explosion of water, a dozen men surfaced, and the crowd converged on them, medical people in the lead. Minerva followed along, quietly drawing her wand, basket of sleeping kittens on her arm. Superman was already bending over one man, trying to breathe life into his lungs. Quietly aiming her wand, she whispered, '_enervate_' several times, as men coughed and sat up.

"What happened?" she asked someone.

With a deep bow, he answered, "Road collapse. Machine sink." With another deep bow, he hurried off. Superman kept working on the one man, while the others were bundled off to waiting ambulances. He finally coughed and waved his hand, and Superman sat back. Minerva hurried over to him, as an official spoke to him in Chinese. Superman said something, smiled at Minerva as the official shouted and waved. He leaped into the air, diving back into the lake, surfacing with a bulldozer, which he carried over to a vacant spot of land. As he retrieved the rest of the equipment, Minerva watched, jaw agape.

* * *

Once again safely aloft, Minerva said, "Mr. Kent, we need to talk." 

He sighed, and flew upwards. "The longboat's still on course, although the wind's picked up a bit." He smiled, adding, "Let's go someplace private." She nodded, and he said, "Do not, under any circumstances, let go of me." She nodded again, and he shot upward.

* * *

Once the steel door had hissed closed behind them, Clark said, "You can let go, now." 

"We're on the _moon_?" Minerva said with a touch of disbelief. "Can Miss Wayne do … what you do?"

"Unfortunately not, Severus asked the same question. I'm the last of my bloodline, the last of my race; the people of the planet Krypton." He guided Minerva into the medical bay, nodding and saying, "Kyle, Jennie, this is Minerva." Jennie waved from the examination table as a purple beam bathed her ankle. Clark leaned over, whispering "Sprained ankle". He closed a door behind them, saying, "I'd like to examine the children. If you could transfigure them back, but leave them unconscious, please." He patted the gleaming steel table as Minerva pulled a kitten out.

* * *

"Can you treat them?" Minerva asked. 

"I can, but I don't know how that might affect their magic," Clark replied. "I've mapped their injuries and DNA, but that's as far as I dare go. I'd like to get them into Miss Pomfrey's care, especially since we've broken them out of jail." He nudged a stack of paper to Minerva, adding, "I'd better call in to Babs."

* * *

"Would you wait here for a moment, Minerva?" Clark asked. She nodded, and he vanished, as she moved to look out the window at Earth. 

"Y'know, no matter how many planets I visit, there's something about Earth," Kyle said. Minerva turned as Jennie made a small sound of agreement. Kyle extended his hand with a smile, saying, "We weren't formally introduced earlier, which is unusual for the Boy Scout. I'm Kyle Rayner; this is my girlfriend Jennie-Lynn Hayden."

"Minerva McGonagall, I am one of Miss Wayne's teachers in Scotland," adding, "'Boy Scout'?"

"One of Clark's nicknames," Jennie said. "He's so honest and pure, which, given that he's strong enough to juggle planets, is a _good_ thing." Minerva staggered a bit in shock, and a green energy hand supported her. "You didn't know?"

"No, I … I am not very up to speed on the muggle world, it seems."

"Muggle?"

Minerva drew herself up, and extended her hand, saying, "Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She took a breath, asking, "Can … can Miss Wayne produce that green hand?"

"Mattie Wayne? The Bat's kid? No, she's human. Very, very human, although her family is downright frightening," Kyle said.

Jennie nodded emphatically, "Between the two of them, bearing in mind that Clark can vaporize cities with a glance, we're more frightened of the Bat; we're on good terms with Bruce." She shuddered, adding, "I would not want to be in the same _solar system_ with a pissed-off Bat **_and_** a pissed-off Superman." She looked at Minerva, and started to cry, "Oh, my God, oh, my God! Someone **_was_** stupid enough to do it." Kyle folded her into a hug, asking, "What… Who?"

"One Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Kyle," Clark said, steel in his eye. Jennie whimpered, burrowing deeper into Kyle's arms. Clark passed Minerva a gallon zip lock bag of moon dust; then offered her his arm, asking, "For Severus. Shall we return?"

**_

* * *

Tuesday, May 25, 1999:  
The North Sea  
_**

* * *

"Oh, dear, the longboat's empty," Clark said. He dropped Minerva and the kittens in the half-swamped longboat, diving into the icy water. A whirlpool started to form, slowly drawing Minerva down. She screamed, "Mr. Kent!" and the longboat flew out of the water. With the crack of a sonic boom, Minerva reappeared in the Wayne suite, with Clark looking haggard. 

"Clark, where's my wife and daughter?" Bruce asked, standing. Minerva gasped to herself, she could _see_ the shift in Bruce and the Clan, and she understood why Jennie was far more frightened of Bruce than Clark.

'Six little words,' she mused, and screwed up her Gryffindor courage. "Do not be blaming Mr. Kent," she said, and the Clan's gazes switched to her. She swallowed, adding, "We had agreed this was a covert mission. Fudge offered Miss Wayne a … a pardon, and Selina decided to accompany them in the longboat. Mr. Kent was keeping an eye on them, but an emergency arose in China. When we returned, the boat was empty. Mr. Kent dove into the water, but…"

"I searched from the sea floor on up, for two hundred miles, Bruce. There is no trace of their bodies, or any debris, from the sea floor to orbit; no trace."

"Minerva, would you perform a finder spell, please?" Bruce asked, voice shaking.

"Point me, Mattie Wayne," Minerva said, and her wand spun, pointing.

"The North Sea?" Clark said. He stood, and looked that direction, shaking his head. "All I see are oil platforms." He frowned, adding, "There's a bit of blockage from x-ray equipment, but nothing looks out of the ordinary."

"Point me, Selina Wayne," Minerva said, and Clark shook his head. "I don't see either one of them. We'll have to triangulate their position again."

"I shall drop off these children in the infirmary, and fetch Professor Potter straightaway," Minerva declared. "We can start in a minute."

**_

* * *

Tuesday, May 25, 1999:  
BP helicopter, the North Sea  
_**

* * *

"Twenty minutes out," the pilot called to the controller on the platform. 

"Roger that."

"Longboat in trouble!" someone called, and the pilot changed to a search, while the copilot called the platform. "Someone's in it!" The pilot changed to a hover, fighting the strengthening winds.

"Litter ready!" the crew chief said, and rode the winch down with it. Lying in the boat was an unconscious, rope bound girl, wearing what looked like a filthy school uniform. A grey cat sat next to her, and hissed. The chief managed to get her strapped into the litter, then asked the cat, "You coming, luv?" She jumped in, and he buckled himself to the lift, riding it up into the chopper. "Go!" he screamed at the pilot, who turned, flying for the platform and safety.

**_

* * *

Tuesday, May 25, 1999:  
BP oil platform 'Sunniland Alpha', the North Sea  
_**

* * *

"_Blarrgh_." 

"Get it out, luv," the doctor said. The girl retched again, and the doctor made approving noises.

"Cat?"

"Your cat's fine, she's in my office, creating a terrible row," the doctor said, and was surprised when the girl tried to struggle to her feet. "Now, now, nothing will happen to your cat."

"Cat. NOW!" the girl said, and she started to lurch toward the office.

The doctor said, "All right, I'll get your cat, but only if you promise to rest." The girl eyed the doctor, but couldn't keep awake. The doctor sighed; then let the cat out from her office, where it bolted to sit on the girl's bed. The doctor told the cat, "You're not much help. I've got to get those wet clothes off her, and get her cleaned up." Surprisingly, the cat meowed, jumping to the next bed to watch the girl.

"Helpful little thing, aren't you?" the doctor asked the cat as she removed the filthy grey skirt, shoes and jumper. As she removed the blouse, she looked at the crest on the girl's jumper again, asking herself; "Where have I…" Returning to her patient, she mused, "Well, now, what have we here?", as she fetched a camera, photographing the scars on the girl's wrists and ankles; photographing fainter scarring on her neck. "Is that malnutrition or deliberate starvation? Hmm, now why would you be carrying these if you were being held prisoner somewhere, dear?" The doctor removed the equipment belt from the girl's slim waist, adding, "Curioser and curioser, a rod of some sort, hidden in a sheath along the spine." Adding it to a box with other equipment, she removed a similar, empty sheath along her left forearm, before cutting off the girl's bodysuit. Removing that, she noticed a watch, adding, "Rolex, not only are you right handed, dear, you're a rich girl, and another watch next to it. No hands on this one though. Wonder why?"

The doctor picked up the boots to store away, noticing something concealed inside. She extracted a sheathed knife from each, pulling one to examine it. Shaking her head, the doctor asked the cat, "You know why this girl is a walking arsenal, but has the scars of being confined somewhere. Was she held hostage somewhere?" The cat just looked at her with her green eyes, the same shade as … yes, the doctor checked, the mystery girl.

Pulling up the neckline of the bodysuit as it was cut; the doctor found and removed two crystals on pendant necklaces. Taking a cloth, the doctor cleaned under the soiled undergarments, tossing them in a separate bag. She took samples of the girl's waste; then bagged the ruined and filthy clothing. Telling the cat, "Move, you!" she transferred the girl to the clean bed, stripping and tossing the soiled sheets across the ward.

The girl moaned, and the doctor said, "Good girl. You're safe here; let me listen to your lungs. Cough, please." The girl did so, the doctor adding, "You've got a bit of water in your lungs, dear. Can you cough it up?" The girl raised her eyebrows, and tried. The doctor pulled up the sheets and blanket, asking, "What can you tell me?" The girl coughed again, making a scribbling motion. The doctor handed her a pad on a clipboard, saying, "Here you go, dear." The girl fumbled with the pencil, then scrawled, '_email?_'

"Want me to send to your rellies, dear?" The girl nodded violently, her head weaving.

"Write on, dear, I'll read it back." The girl wrote, 'to – babs / oraclesecure net, subj – m + s'. The doctor asked, "Send it to a person called 'babs' at oraclesecure? I can't read the last bit, dear." The girl wrote **_NET_** and the doctor added, "The subject is 'M and S', is that right? What's the body?"

The girl coughed again, this time getting some out into the basin. She croaked something that might have been 'Thanks'. She waved her pencil, and the clipboard was brought back into range. "Both alive, on location? Status? School?" The doctor asked, and the girl nodded, waving toward the office as the cat moved into her arms, purring.

**_

* * *

Tuesday, May 25, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Wayne suite  
_**

* * *

Bab's laptop 'pinged', and she checked, raising her eyebrow. "Guys, we've got an email!" she called. Clearing her throat, she quoted, 

_To: babs at oraclesecure net.  
From: Dr. Janet Callahan (British Petroleum)  
Subject: M + S _

_To whom it may concern:  
A short time ago, a half-drowned young girl and her cat were rescued from a foundering longboat in the North Sea by one of our helicopter crews. They are both in our medical bay, and are in reasonable condition.  
_

_The girl is floating in and out of consciousness, and asked me to send this email, presumably to her rellies. I quote:  
_

_Both alive, on location? (The Sunniland Alpha oil platform medical bay.)  
Status?  
School?  
_

_The rescue of this girl has raised several questions in my mind. I would appreciate your reply as soon as possible.  
Sincerely,  
Dr. Janet Callahan _

Clark looked at Dr. Phillips, and held out a hand.

* * *

Dr. Callahan clicked 'Send' for her mystery patient's email; then turned to reopen her patient's box of odd things. She started at a rap on the door, and a deep male voice, "Dr. Callahan?" 

"Yes, I'm Dr…... Superman?"

He smiled slightly, "We got your email. This is Dr. Phillips, our family physician. Would you like to discuss your patient?"

"Family physician for … Superman?" Dr. Callahan realized her jaw had dropped, and shook her head to clear it. "You must have some interesting tales to tell, Doctor."

"One or two, but … confidentiality Doctor. What's her status?"

"Still has a bit of water in her lungs, but she's been coughing it up. I don't want to force-ventilate her, because … " the two doctors dissolved into a spate of medical jargon, and Superman moved away, pulling out his cell phone.

"Babs? Yes, I'm ten feet from her. The doctors are discussing things now; I'll have him get back to you. She's got a bit of water in her lungs, I would guess at least overnight. Right. Right. Tell him I'm sorry I got him worked up. No, Selina's lying on her chest, purring. She said what? Okay, when she wakes up I'll tell her. Right. Right. Can I talk to my wife?" He looked at the two doctors, they were oblivious. "Love you, dear. Yes, she seems to be doing okay for now. Right, I'm standing ten feet from her. I'll call Perry. Right. Love you. Bye." He disconnected; then cleared his throat, finally walking over to the two doctors. "How's she doing? What's the prognosis?" He looked at Dr. Phillips, and said, "Call Babs, please, doctor. Dr. Callahan?"

"Yes, please, um, Mr. Superman. Can we use my office?" He gestured politely, and followed her in, gently closing the door. "Well, um. First of all, this rather throws me. Is she Kryptonian?"

"No. She's one-hundred percent earth human. She's somewhat, well, she's my god-daughter, if you must know." His hands twisted the steel visitor's chair with a squeal; he blushed, saying, "Sorry."

"Quite all right, it's understandable to be worried about your mate's kids. If I may, I understand you're married, Mr. Superman. You can't…? Um, er?"

"No, unfortunately not. There are quite a few problems there, starting with the … um, male … um, issue, and then there's …" he blushed deeply, and she thought, '_Gor Blimy, I've embarrassed Superman!_'

"So, what happened, with, um?"

"Her name's Mattie," Superman said quietly. "She was kidnapped, held hostage for _political_ gain, and when her father, her Clan and I…" He sprang out of the chair, and started to pace, and she caught a glance of his face. He put his hand out, grabbing the heavy steel bulkhead, and started to squeeze, breathing deeply. She yelped, and called, "Superman!"

"Sorry. Sorry. It's just that … she's as close to a daughter …" Dr. Callahan dared to put a hand on his shoulder as he sat again, face buried in his hands. He looked at her, eyes red and burning, and smiled, "You must think me an awful wimp."

"Not at all," she said, offering him a box of tissues. "_I truly pity the fool he's going after,_" she thought. "So, why is she a walking arsenal?"

"Because her captors were both complacent and foolish," he said. "May I take those with me?" She nodded, and he smiled, "I'm afraid I can't be more detailed than that, Doctor." He reached behind him, and pulled out a great dirty chunk of stone. "I apologize for the mess, Doctor. This is my form of stress ball." He gazed at it, rubbing it as he continued to talk, "One problem with being Superman, Doctor, is where do you go to blow off steam?" He nodded at the crumpled bulkhead, adding, "I'm truly sorry I lost a bit of control, there. However, when one punch can destroy a planet, where do you go?" He flexed his shoulders, adding, "There's no place I can really let loose, you know? Added to that, well, my wife would really like to have a kid, and I'd love to help her with one. She understands, though, that it would kill her, but when we see kids in the park…"

"And now, with your god-daughter kidnapped…" Dr. Callahan nodded, patting his shoulder again. "What about in-vitro…no, forget it."

"Kryptonian sperm, human ova?" Superman shook his head, adding, "The problem of a suitable host mother arises, and I won't ask any woman to make that sacrifice for my selfish needs. Besides, can you imagine the 'terrible twos'?"

"True," she said with a small chuckle, adding, "Where'd you get that rock? It doesn't look like your cape would hold that much."

"A bit of Kryptonian tech, it's a dimensional pocket. I have about thirty in there. It's nice because I can do _this_ to them," and with a ripple of muscle, he handed her a diamond the size of a goose egg. With a soft inhalation, he gathered up the debris, depositing it gently in her plastic office wastebasket, and opened the door for her.

* * *

"Oy, Charlie, Jake!" Dr. Callahan called softly. They turned, jaws dropping, and she said, "Mr. Superman, I'd like to introduce the two blokes that fished her out. Charlie's the pilot; Jake's the fellow that went in after her." 

"Gentlemen, thank you. If you hadn't seen my little girl, I …" Superman clapped them on the shoulder as he shook their hands. Jake eventually said, "Superman, mate, t'weren't a problem."

* * *

"Dr. Phillips?" 

He looked up, "Yes, Superman? I thought I'd stay here for the night. Let Janet have a bit of lie-in tomorrow." He smiled, saying, "Sometimes I feel so useless, you know?"

"Believe it or not, so do I; Doctor. You have your cell phone?"

He nodded, saying, "Have a good evening."

**_

* * *

Thursday, May 27, 1999:  
BP oil platform 'Sunniland Alpha', the North Sea  
_**

* * *

"Hey, Doc! How's my little sis?" Dick asked, as Kyle and Jennie stood back. 

"A lot better, Dick, but be quiet, she's sleeping again," Dr. Phillips said. Dr. Callahan wandered over, and he made the introductions.

Dick asked, "When can she go home, Doc?"

"If she'll go into a medical facility, I'll release her tomorrow morning," Dr. Callahan said, and Dick nodded. There was a soft moan of "Dick?", and Dr. Callahan darted behind the screen, only to wave them in. "I'll leave you alone, but no more than five minutes!"

"Yes, ma'am," Dick replied, sitting on Mattie's bed. She was wearing well-laundered scrubs, and Jennie sat on the other bed, asking, "Aren't those the most comfortable things?"

"Yeah, much better than flannel nighties," Mattie agreed, asking Dick, "How'ya doing? Where's mom?"

"Sleeping on the other pillow," Dick said with a gesture. He glanced at Kyle, asking, "You met Minerva, I understand?"

"Yeah, that is _so cool_!" Jennie said. "The Bat's kid is a genuine witch!"

"Shhh!" Dick hissed. He poked his head up, and said, "Jennie, Kyle, I have to confess to an ulterior motive, here. This is the second time Mattie's been kidnapped this year, and I'd like her to have a bit of extra protection."

"What does Dad say about that?" Mattie asked warily.

"Never you mind about Dad, little sis. I'm your big brother; I'm going to stack the deck in your favor as much as I can. I can't see Bruce or Selina complaining, if they do, they'll deal with me," Dick said as he turned to Kyle. "There's an Oan ring in the weapons vault. It's dead, and there's no battery for it, we think the owner was on Krypton when it exploded. What will you charge me to bring it up to speed for Mattie?"

Mattie's jaw dropped, "Dick, Kyle, no! I don't want a power ring!"

"Dick, I vote with Mattie," Dr. Phillips said. "While I'm all in favor of increasing her safety, I think she's already got quite a bit on her plate. Besides it makes her an even bigger target."

"The only problem is that Kryptonite radiation is difficult to remove from an object," Kyle said. "You don't want to give a long-term dose or Clark exposure to the radiation, do you?" Dr. Callahan called, "One minute!", and Kyle said, "Look, we'll be here to help all of you get to school. We'll let you know, for now you," he pointed at Mattie, "need to rest." He stood, along with Jennie and Dick, as Dr. Callahan's shoes were heard on the deck.

**_

* * *

Friday, May 28, 1999:  
BP oil platform 'Sunniland Alpha', The North Sea  
_**

* * *

"Well, I must say that this has been a unique experience," Dr. Callahan said. Her eyes flicked to Jennie and Kyle, both in 'uniform' and hovering slightly above the deck. 

"You have my gratitude, Doctor, for your assistance, and a shoulder I could borrow," Superman grinned. "Would you be kind enough to pass on something for me?" he asked. "It's a map of the oil field you're currently in, and the location of some nice mineral deposits. The platform's location is marked on it, and I've got a sample here for your helicopter crew, a small souvenir." He extracted a map from his cape, then a large chunk of wet rock, where minerals gleamed. "It's about three hundred pounds, from a half-mile or so down. There's gold, titanium, a bit of silver, and some tungsten there." He smiled, saying "It can't hurt their job security." He set it down with a 'thump' on the deck next to the bulkhead.

"You ready to go, munchkin?" Dick asked, and Mattie nodded, Selina riding on her shoulder. She stood, braced herself against her brother, throwing her arms around Dr. Callahan, whispering, "Thank you."

"My pleasure," she smiled. "Now, I want you in bed for at least a week when you're back in school," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Mattie said.

Dick handed Dr. Callahan a small envelope, saying "We don't forget our friends, Doctor. Give the Clan a call if you need our help." He shook her hand, and they were gone.

Dazed, Dr. Callahan looked at the chunk of wet rock on the deck of her sickbay, and plopped down at her desk, looking at the gleaming diamond, perched on a makeshift stand. She opened the envelope, finding a simple business card with a phone number, and the name, 'Oracle'. Turning it over; on a black background was the yellow outline of a bat.

**_

* * *

Friday, May 28, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary  
_**

* * *

"Mr. Morton! What happened to you?" Madame Pomfrey asked as he limped in on Professor Harry's shoulder, then she turned, her mouth open. 

"I turned wrong to avoid a hex…" Arthur said, before he followed to look with the others.

"I said ya should go to the DA meetings Arthur," a weak, raspy voice said.

"Mattie? Superman?" Arthur said.

"What are we, chopped liver?" a young woman asked as figures flew into the room.

"Jade, Lantern?" Harry asked.

"See? Advertising _does_ pay off!" Dick said, adding, "New York's too expensive. I keep telling you two to move to Bludhaven, you'd have more fun. Hello, Arthur, how's school going?"

Arthur's jaw hung open, and Dick reached over to close it with a finger. He shook himself, asking, "Where have you _BEEN_? People thought you were dead!"

"Azkaban," Dick replied, adding, "Arthur, Harry, I know I can rely on your discretion on certain … personal matters, eh?" Green Lantern and Jade had changed back into their civilian personas.

"Of course, Mr. Grayson," Professor Harry said, while Arthur simply nodded.

"Excellent! Let me see if Madame Pomfrey is ready for you, Arthur."

* * *

"We want to see her for oursel', mate. Surely y' understan'?" Ian said to Clark as he stood outside the doors to the Infirmary. 

"I do indeed, Mr. MacDonald. However, Madame Pomfrey has prescribed bed rest, and that's what she will have," Clark said. "If Miss Tonks sees her, will that do for now?"

Ian nodded, and Clark told Sprink, "If Madame Pomfrey throws you out, out you go, understand? No more than five minutes, now." She nodded, and he moved to let her pass.

* * *

"Hey, Sprink, you look like hell." 

"So do you, mate," Sprink hugged her, adding, "_Merlin_, I missed you!"

"So did I," Mattie said. "Go ahead, sniff away." As Sprink smelled her, Mattie apologized, saying, "There wasn't any place to bathe, I know I'm really ripe. Satisfied who I am?" Sprink nodded, and Mattie concentrated, saying, "_Accio scrubs_."

"You did that without your wand," Sprink said, surprised.

"Yeah, the Ministry confiscated mine. I wonder what happened to it?" She smiled, and said, "I'm sorry, but Pomfrey won't let me be there with you Sunday night. I wore these on the oil platform, they're really soft." She grinned, adding, "Try not to shred them, all right?" She looked up at the sound of Pomfrey's heels, and held out her hand for Sprink. "See ya Monday, all right?"

**_

* * *

Friday, May 28, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 12:08  
_**

* * *

Susquehanna Tonks, a first-year student and member of Slytherin House, strode into the Great Hall and up to the high table. Interrupting lunch, she said, loudly and clearly, "Despite what the Ministry of Magic and that idiot Cornelius Fudge say, my housemate, Miss Helena Martha Wayne is alive, and is in our Infirmary. I have smelled her; I know this to be true." She pointed her wand at the frowning portrait of the Minister of Magic, and declared, "This is what I think of our esteemed Minister: _Incendio_!" 


	24. Classes, Week 41, First year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

**

* * *

24 – Classes, Week 41, First year  
****_

* * *

Monday, May 31, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary: 08:57  
_**

* * *

"That works better with a wand, mate," Amanda said as she helped an exhausted Sprink to a bed. Mattie looked, and started to get up, but was waved down. 

"The Ministry stole my wand, and I wanted to get my movements right, so…" Mattie shrugged, and stuck her pencil in the notes. "I've got a month of stuff to catch up on you guys, and Transfig never was my best subject. I'm doomed!" she declared dramatically, while the two snorted. "What can I say, Gotham, my hometown, city of nightmares, makes you such a _cheerful_ person. How is she?"

"_This_ she is doing as well as could be expected," Sprink said, clutching the scrubs to herself. "_That_ she, on the other hand," pointing to Amanda, "should have her bloody head examined! Don't you _know_ better than to stick your hand in a cell with bloody werewolves on a full moon? Do you _want_ to be bitten, you idiotic twit?"

"But I saw you take the potion!" Amanda said, confused. She sat down on Sprink's bed, who gave a low growl.

"The potion, which tastes terrible by the way, lets me retain my mind. It. Is. Not. A. Cure," Sprink said, slowly and distinctly. "You have no idea how difficult it is NOT to bite some twit that thinks I'm a big, friendly dog. Why do you _think_ I snarled at you, and bared my fangs? So you'd get your bloody hand away from my mouth!"

"Were you bitten, Miss Leeds?" Madame Pomfrey asked sharply.

"No, I didn't bite her, and the rest were sleepin'," Sprink said. Amanda sniffled, and Sprink sighed. "Look, 'manda, I really do appreciate your keeping watch with me. The way the law is, if I had bitten you, even though _you_ were at fault, _I'd_ be blamed for it, and the Ministry could execute me, depending on Fudge's mood a' the day. I'm no longer a 'human', I'm a 'half-human', and I'd be guilty of biting. Once you're bitten, you lose lots a' of your rights, such as they are. D'y'see why I snarled at you?"

Amanda nodded, saying, "I'm sorry, I…"

"Y'weren't thinkin', I know. Y'goin' to do it again?" Amanda shook her head, and Sprink held out her hand, asking, "We're good, then?"

Amanda nodded, and Madame Pomfrey said, "You can just make your examination if you hurry, Miss Leeds. I'll write Professor Sprout a note for you, and I will discuss your foolish behavior with Professor McGonagall."

"I didn't mean to get her in trouble," Sprink said, rising partway out of the bed.

"You did not, Miss Tonks, you showed commendable restraint," Pomfrey said as she handed the note to Amanda, shooing her out. She sat down on Sprink's bed, and patted her hand. "I think between the two of us, and Minerva's lecture, she won't do anything so foolish again, but she'll still be willing to help out her friends."

"Devious, aren't you?" Mattie said with a chuckle.

"After a few years, one learns which strings to pull with students," Pomfrey admitted. "I didn't even have to threaten house points. Now, Miss Tonks, you will go to sleep, and you, Miss Wayne, will put your books aside and take a nap. Your wish to revise is commendable, but you've been through an ordeal, and I did promise your uncle that you would rest. If you are asleep when the elves come with lunch, you may have your presents."

"Presents?"

"Yes, presents. Today is Miss Wayne's eleventh birthday, is it not?" Pomfrey asked. "Now off to sleep, both of you!"

* * *

"Is she asleep? Can I wake her?" 

"I'm awake, just thinking," Mattie said as she sat up. "Mr. Griplick! What a pleasant surprise! Please, sit down! What can I do for you?" she asked as she shook his hand.

"Well, Miss Wayne, after your alleged death, we need to verify your identity in order to set your accounts in order."

"My word isn't good enough?" Sprink growled as she rolled over and sat up.

"Unfortunately not, Miss Tonks," Griplick said. "It is not a complex procedure, simply sign under your previous signature, and tap it with your wand."

"I was starved and tortured in Azkaban, Mr. Griplick. My signature probably won't be the same, and the Ministry stole my registered wand." Mattie cracked her knuckles, adding "I've been doing some wandless magic, will that count?"

"I mis-spoke, I apologize. I meant your magical signature, and we can certainly try it with wandless magic."

"Is there a wand in your box, Mattie?" Sprink asked.

"What box?"

Griplick looked under the bed, and dragged it out. With a nod for permission, he opened it, and Sprink squealed, "Ooh, pretty wand!"

"Oh, cool, my spare… er…"

"An unregistered wand, Miss Wayne?" Griplick asked with a smile. "As long as it does not violate Gringott's policies, I have no objection." He looked it over, then handed it to her, asking, "Shall we?"

"What is it, Mattie?" Sprink asked as she waved her wand again.

"Hawthorn grip with an onyx shaft, and a nightmare core," Mattie replied. "This was a good investment, it feels right." She sighed happily, adding, "Mr. Griplick, I've always loved the way I've been treated at Gringott's. As far as I'm concerned, you and Sprink here are both family."

Griplick looked at her, thunderstruck. "What do you mean, Miss Wayne?"

"I like you, and I trust you, Mr. Griplick. You have always been honest and fair with me, and you look out for my best interests. Don't family members do that for each other?"

"They do, Miss Wayne, they do indeed," he said as he eyed her. "How do you feel about Miss Tonks?"

"The same, she's family, she's my sister."

"Hmm. Most interesting, however, on to business," Griplick said. He produced a sheet with Mattie's signature and a quill. She took a breath, signing and tapping it with her finger. The sheet turned gold, and Griplick smiled happily. "The signature is confirmed, Miss Wayne. Now then, when did you lose control of your moneybag and wand?"

"My wand, when we went through security at the Ministry on April 23rd, my moneybag presumably after my arrest. I was unconscious then."

"She was overdosed with veritaserum about eleven that morning," Sprink contributed.

"Since then I've been either in Azkaban, or on an oil platform in the North Sea or here," Mattie added. "I couldn't use the moneybag in either place, and I didn't know until just now my backup wand survived."

"So any withdrawals during that period were unauthorized?" Griplick said, practically salivating.

"Yes, unless a family member authorized them."

"They did not. Will you sign a statement authorizing us to investigate and take action against those persons who have stolen from you?"

"As long as it doesn't conflict with other legal actions, I certainly will."

Clark overheard the last as he entered, adding, "Go ahead, Mattie, and happy birthday." He sat on her bed, and received a hug. He noticed Griplick's expression, and asked gently, "Remind you of your own children?"

There was a softer look on his face, "Yes, she does, Mr. Kent, as I'm sure your own children do."

"I am unfortunately childless, so I have to take my joy by proxy with Mattie," he grinned at Sprink, adding, "and her friends, too."

"Shoemaker-Levy was not your fault, Uncle Clark!"

"How did you know about that, Mattie?" She raised an eyebrow, and patted his back. Turning, she asked, "What about your kids, Mr. Griplick?"

"My wife and I have been blessed with two handsome sons, and two wonderful daughters!" he said with the air of a proud parent.

Clark sighed, and said, "I am jealous, sir. I wish I could provide that to my wife, but I cannot, not without injuring her."

"Ah. Bankers keep many secrets, Mr. Kent. May we speak privately?"

As the two men moved off, Mattie turned to Sprink and said, "Promise me you won't listen in? This is _very_ private, all right?"

"All right, but you need to tell me what's going on," Sprink said. "Griplink's cast a privacy spell anyway. Who's this Levy person?"

"Shoemaker-Levy was a comet that struck Jupiter a few years ago. Uncle Clark was… in the vicinity," Sprink raised an eyebrow, and Mattie continued, "Well, Uncle Clark can't have normal relations with his wife, because in the act, um, because he's so much stronger than she is, there's the strong possibility that he would injure her. Fatally. When my sister-in-law Barbara had her spine fixed, they were hoping that there was some magical spell or something to help." She sighed, and said, "I guess there isn't one, so they remain very, um, frustrated."

"Oh, I see. No, I don't. What do you mean, injure?"

"If a, um, werewolf guy were to, um, spend the night with a human girl, she might be injured because he's much stronger, right?" Sprink nodded, and Mattie added, "Scale that guy up, with the same girl. So both Uncle Clark and Aunt Lois get really frustrated, understand?"

"Yeah, I understand, and I'll keep it quiet. They've finished talking!"

Mattie put an expression of polite interest on, and asked, "Mr. Griplick, am I to understand that someone's been accessing my account?"

"Oh, my yes! As of the close of business yesterday, the account was down 105,000 galleons. However, since you assure me that it was not authorized, Gringott's bank will pursue fraud charges against those individuals. All I need is your signature."

"With pleasure, sir," she said as she signed. She returned his quill, and asked, "What about a replacement moneybag?"

He fished one out of a pocket, and said, "This is already linked to your account. Please wait twenty-four hours before using it. Our fraud division will credit your account against the recovery from the criminal's accounts. Your old moneybag will be linked to the fraud division's accounts," he said, grinning nastily. "I do SO enjoy catching criminals who think they can defraud my clients, and we _will_ recover every knut in your account, Miss Wayne."

"It's always a pleasure to deal with Gringott's, Mr. Griplick."

* * *

"Oy, Mattie, it's good to see you again," Charlie said. "Who d'you know at the Palace?" 

"Hey, good to see you, mate," Mattie nodded at the get-well card, "Who signed it?"

"Elizabeth and Harry." He passed it over to her, adding "There's one from the American Embassy, too."

"More thank-you cards to write," she smiled. "How was your first exam as a wizard, mate?"

"Herbology? It wasn't bad, although I'm not looking forward to the History exam tomorrow. At least I can revise a bit for the Astronomy one tonight." The other members of the study group came through the door, taking seats on and around Mattie and Sprink's beds. Amanda had problems meeting Sprink's eyes, until she squeezed her hand.

* * *

"This is the last one, Mattie," Arthur said, passing her the small black and green wrapped package. 

She tried to pry the wrapping off, but couldn't, "Amanda, there should be a box under my bed; I think I saw my boot knives in there." Amanda reached down and slid the cardboard box out, then wrinkled her nose while Sprink coughed. "Sorry, guys," Mattie said. "Could someone do a cleaning spell, there wasn't a chamber pot in that cell."

"_Scourgify_!" Amanda said while waving her wand. She passed a boot to Sprink, asking "Better?"

Sprink sniffed; then said, "Much. Thanks mate. I really didn't want to say anything, but my eyes were starting to water, there."

One of the twins said, "When you want to talk about it, Mattie…"

"Actually, my folks want me to go to a wizarding shrink over the summer holidays, a Dr. Patterson in New York," she sighed; then brightened. "Hey, maybe we can go running in Central Park or something! I really need to get back in shape."

"Cool!" the twins chorused.

Mattie smiled, opening the card attached to the package. Her face fell, and she said, "Oh, god. They didn't. They didn't! I told them I didn't want one, and they got me one anyway!"

The others looked in confusion at each other, so Mattie handed Amanda the card, and she read aloud,

_Dear Mattie:  
I know you said you didn't want one, but you're outvoted. Wear it in good health, and charge it every day.  
_

_Kyle and Jennie_

The group passed looks of confusion around, until Charlie said, "Open it, mate. I don't understand. What needs to be charged every day?"

"This." Mattie attacked the wrapping around the box, tearing it off violently. With a snap, she sheathed the knife and opened the box. Inside was a small circular device, with a small object nestled above it. She spun the box in her lap, displaying it to the group. Arthur, Charlie and the twins drew in their breath, while the wizards just looked confused.

"Mattie, I don't understand," Charlie said. "How did you get…"

"Family connections," she replied, adding, "Can you explain it to the rest? I've got to plan the murder of my brother." She pulled a pillow over her head, while Charlie explained the significance of the small, softly glowing lamp and ring.

* * *

"I don't understand, Mattie," Amanda said. "It sounds like a wonderful thing to have." 

Mattie lowered the pillow over her face, "It's the lure of the Dark Side of the Force, Amanda. That can be used for great good, or great evil, and there are currently only two other people in this _galaxy_ that have one. I have no particular desire to become a Dark Lady of the Sith. If I hide from it, it will go away." She put her pillow back over head while Charlie, Arthur and the twins tried to explain _that_.

* * *

"Did you have to bring in Vader, Mattie? You're just confusing them more," Arthur said. 

"I thought it was appropriate," she said. Grabbing the box, she slid the ring on her right middle finger, and touched it to the Lamp. The green glow surrounded her for ten seconds; then went away. She turned to her friends, "Okay, here's the deal. This ring isn't magic, it's a bit of alien high tech, but it gives me the power of a god. The question is, for good or evil? If I go Dark, I can make Voldemort look like a muggle, and the only two Potters are the ones that gave it to me!"

"Don't go Dark, then," Andrew said for the first time.

"Very easy to say, but how exactly do you define 'Dark'? The power of this ring is limited only by my creativity and my will. For instance, say I want to tear the moon out of orbit, and dunk it in the Atlantic." She waved her hand, asking, "If my will is strong enough, I can do it with this ring. Would that be Light or Dark? Should I, Andrew? What do I do about Fudge and Malfoy? It would be trivial to convert them into cockroaches and step on them. They've hurt my friends, they've hurt me, why shouldn't I? I wouldn't even need the Killing Curse, and what jail would hold me?" She flopped back, asking, "See why I didn't want this?"

* * *

The tall form of Professor Snape said, "Miss Wayne, you asked to see us?" 

"Yes, please," comfortable chairs materialized around her bed, and Professor McGonagall blinked. "Have a seat, please. I need some advice. My brother, with the best of intentions, and thinking of my safety, got two of his mates to give me this," and she displayed the ring.

"I do not understand, Miss Wayne," Professor Dumbledore asked. "Why should a bit of jewelry give such distress?"

"The problem, Professor, is that it gives me the power of a god." She smiled gently, adding, "I could make Voldemort look like a muggle with a wave of my hand. I don't have any experience in this, there's no training in using these rings, and the only limitation is my will."

"The fact that you are asking these questions would be its own answer," Professor Sprout said gently.

"My life was so much simpler when I was just subject to kidnapping," Mattie sighed. She looked at Professor Flitwick, "What about Malfoy and Fudge? I snap my fingers, they're changed into cockroaches. They've hurt me, they've hurt my friends. Why shouldn't I?"

Professor Dumbledore leaned back and steepled his fingers. "I think, Miss Wayne, that you now understand the reasoning behind the restrictions on underage magic. It is not simply adults not wanting children to have fun, but learning how to control yourself, and your powers. Consider when you live in a muggle neighborhood, it is difficult to keep from turning your annoying neighbor with his loud music into a frog. For you, it will be especially difficult, both for your power and your more lethal skills." He glanced at Minerva, and said, "Harry had similar problems, especially when he began to mature."

"I would suggest you talk to Mr. Kent," Severus said. "I am sure he faced these same problems growing up, as have the two people that gave you this gift."

Mattie grinned, "Kyle told me how he got his ring, Professor. He was in a bar and needed to pee, but the men's room was closed for repair, and there was a long line for the ladies', so he went out the back door. He was going to pee in the alley, and this little blue guy in a red robe gave it to him. He took it just so he could get past him and pee. Whammo, he wakes up the next morning; he's got the ability to destroy planets."

"Then I am sure that he made mistakes," Filius Flitwick said gently. "As we all have, including your parents and your relatives, Miss Wayne. Mistakes are a part of growing and learning that never ceases. Do not let it paralyze you with indecision, but carefully weigh each decision, and be prepared to accept the consequences."

"But I'm so much more powerful now," Mattie said. "I mean, I created those chairs, and I didn't really think about it. Professor McGonagall, you know how my Transfig scores were before and now…"

"Before, you had barely acceptable Transfiguration scores, now you think you've achieved NEWT levels?" Minerva smiled, "Child, there is a difference between book learning and experience. You may have the knowledge available, but not the experience."

"You are aware, Miss Wayne, that Madame Marchbanks will be staying over next week to give your examinations?" Mattie nodded, and the Headmaster continued, "I will ask her to give you an extra-credit question in each subject at the NEWT level. These questions require both learning _and_ experience in the subject. This is something you will acquire should you choose to return to us next year, and in subsequent years." He looked at the girl fondly, saying, "I do hope you return to us in September, Miss Wayne. This stodgy old castle could use a bit of excitement." He looked over at the Potions Master, adding, "Don't be grumpy, Severus. Guiding Harry was Minerva's challenge, Miss Wayne is yours."


	25. Classes, Week 43, First year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

**

* * *

25 – Classes, Week 43, First year  
****_

* * *

Friday, June 18, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table  
_**

* * *

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore stood, tapping his wineglass with a spoon. The noise slowly died away as he said, "Another year has come and gone. At this time, we will say goodbye and good fortune to some of our friends, formerly seventh-years, now graduates." Someone whooped from Hufflepuff, followed by a storm of screaming, shouting and applause. The Headmaster let it go on for a few minutes, before tapping his wineglass again. 

"Indeed, a most interesting year. We are indeed fortunate that we leave with the same number of faculty and students we started out with." Another storm of high spirits broke, and again the Headmaster let it go before continuing. "This brings me to the awarding of the Quidditch cup. I wish to commend Slytherin House for an excellent showing with 380 points, despite the unfortunate absence of their primary seeker Miss Wayne for the last two games of the season. They were, however barely edged out by Ravenclaw, with 410 points." Minerva McGonagall stood, and delivered the cup to the diminutive Filius Flitwick, who stood and waved it above himself with difficulty – it was almost as large as he was.

"Sorry, guys," Mattie said as she clapped politely. "I really wanted it too."

"I'll hear na' more abou' it, lassie," Ian said. "I don' blame ye for being' oo't of school, ye' were in bloody Azkaban! Y' survival was much more important tha' Quidditch, noo." He clapped, adding, "I'll be workin' with the Weasleys in Hogsmeade, lassie. I expect to see us wi' it next year!"

"Yes, well done, Ravenclaw, well done!" the Headmaster continued. "We now come to the centerpiece of tonight's festivities, the House Cup. As you know, for the last four weeks of term, the hourglasses outside the Great Hall are covered, so none but the four Heads and I know the point totals." He gazed across the breathless hall, and said, "The house totals stand with Gryffindor at 560 points. Ravenclaw is at 685 points, Slytherin at 689 points, and Hufflepuff at 840." He smiled, adding "I would like to note that Mr. Arthur Morton of Hufflepuff set a school record of 250 points in one day. That was very well done, Mr. Morton!"

The Headmaster paused for a sip of wine as he waited for the Hufflepuffs to stop cheering and slapping an embarrassed Arthur on the back, before continuing, "You may recall that in January of this year, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Quidditch teams were kidnapped, along with Professor Potter, and held in the dungeons under Malfoy Manor. One student managed to free her schoolmates of their bonds, and escaped the cell, gathering vital intelligence and capturing several Death Eaters with her knowledge of the martial arts. For saving the lives of her schoolmates, I would like to award Miss Wayne and Slytherin 150 points."

The Slytherins and Ravenclaws, followed by the rest of the students, stood and cheered, Mattie groaned, then stood up and said, "Excuse me. Excuse me!" Grumbling, she pointed at the ceiling, saying, '_arcus explosivus minimus_', causing an explosion of blinding rainbow-hued light and silence in the Great Hall.

"You wished to say something, Miss Wayne?" the Headmaster said calmly.

"Yes, sir, you awarded me 150 points for my actions in Malfoy's dungeons, correct?"

"I did indeed, I felt you deserved them."

"I don't, Headmaster. My housemates are going to kill me for saying this, but I don't believe I earned them. I was not alone; I think Susan Fawcett deserves those points more than I do."

The Headmaster looked at her; then at Susan, face covered in embarrassment at the Ravenclaw table. "May I ask why?"

"Susan, may I?" Mattie asked gently, and her head nodded once. "Her transfiguration skills are far superior to mine. We had to crawl around through air shafts, which weren't that big, about twelve by twenty-four inches. The reason Susan and I went because we were the smallest." Mattie looked around, adding, "I didn't find out until later that Susan's a claustrophobe. She was absolutely terrified, but she got the job done, which is why I think she deserves the points. She earned them, sir, I didn't."

The Headmaster stroked his beard, "If that is what you wish, Miss Wayne. However, I am not finished embarrassing you." She moaned and tried to hide as the Headmaster chuckled. "I would also like to add a special award to Miss Wayne, for she survived the horrors of Azkaban prison with mind, body and spirit intact and unbroken. That is truly unusual. The maximum I can award is 150 points." Slytherin house went mad, with the Slytherin faculty; and then the rest standing to applaud, while Mattie hid her face, then was pulled to stand on the bench by Sprink and Emma. She waved, and the commotion died down. The headmaster chuckled, "Now, if my arithmetic is correct, that produces a very close race between Ravenclaw, with 835 points, Slytherin, with 839 points, and Hufflepuff with 840 points!"

He clapped his hands, changing the school banners to Hufflepuff yellow. Severus Snape stood to applaud, followed by the rest of the Slytherin faculty and students, while the Hufflepuff table sat there, stunned. After a minute, Minerva McGonagall, holder of last year's house cup, strode down the High Table to award it to Pomona Sprout, who was still rather gobsmacked.

**_

* * *

Saturday, June 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts Express, southbound  
_**

* * *

As the train pulled out of Hogsmeade station, someone knocked on the compartment door holding the study group. Ginny poked her head in, asking, "Can we join you, the others are full." Someone waved; Ginny and Harry came in, Harry sitting on a trunk, leaning against the wall. 

"Err, Professor, d'you want to…" Charlie asked, but Harry shook his head, saying, "I'm fine, mate, and right now it's just Harry, not Professor Potter." He glanced over at Mattie, sitting in a corner, adding, "Brill, Mattie."

Arthur snorted, and Mattie frowned, then stomped over to him, grabbed him by the collar, and said, "Excuse us, everyone. We need to talk," before dragging him out in the corridor, and down toward the caboose, where the familiars rode in their cages. She plunked him down on a bench, cast '_obscurus aqua'_, and said, "Out with it."

"Out with what?"

She snorted, and said, "Whatever the hell climbed up your butt and died _this_ week!" She sat next to him, adding, "Or am I to believe that everything is just peachy keen, and you're your normal bubbling, effervescent self? Sorry, I gave up the crazy act in Azkaban."

"Right, so I'm supposed to believe that we won the house cup out of the generosity of your heart?" Arthur snorted. "How much do you think stumping Professor Potter was worth, fifty points? You and Susan _earned_ your points Mattie, I didn't. Slytherin should have won, not that I really give a damn about the House Cup."

"Believe what you want, but I didn't give those points to Hufflepuff, I gave them to Susan Fawcett, and I did it because I believed it to be right."

"I'm not arguing that. Susan earned those points. So did you, in my opinion. My problem is with that ring on your hand; 'right' is whatever you say it is."

Mattie whirled, "How DARE you? I thought you knew me better, Arthur Donald Morton! Is that what this is about, the damned power ring?" She gazed out the open rear door at the receding track, then turned, demanding, "Hold out your hand." He blinked, and she grabbed his hand, shoving the power ring on his finger. "There. You now have the power ring. You can do whatever you want. YOU are now a Green Lantern, Arthur Morton of Columbus, Ohio. Tell me, how does it feel?"

"I… Oh, my god, it's…"

"Yeah, yeah, it's a rush. However, as the newest member of the cape and spandex club, there are a couple ground rules. First, and most important, you never, ever, give another hero's identity away. Can you tell me why?"

He blinked, and said, "So they don't get killed, obviously."

She nodded, "That's part of it. There are three reasons. First, if you do, that hero will have every psycho, huckster and con man trying to get you to make them money with endorsements and such. Can you imagine what Flash's endorsement of running shoes would be worth to Nike or Reebok?"

"Everyone knows The Flash gets his running boots from Star Labs. Is that an endorsement?"

"They're non-commercial, a government agency. Secondly," she continued, "You're going to get every sob story known to man. Maybe a tenth, a hundredth of one percent are genuine. Third, and most important, your family becomes a big, fat, juicy target for every criminal psychopath. Can you imagine what the Joker would do with your parents, or your brothers and sisters?"

She gazed at him in silence as he shuddered, then asked, "How do you know?"

"I grew up in it. Sit back, and I'm going to tell you the dirty little secrets of the entire cape and spandex crowd, that is, _if_ you still want that ring. Remember the old saying, 'With great power, comes great …'"

"…responsibility. Does that mean that I need to …"

"Be the hero? Hold down a full-time job, a family, pay your taxes and bills, AND fight off alien invasions while getting cats out of trees? Yep, sure does. Heroing doesn't pay squat. You do it because you feel it's your duty, because you have that magical power ring, which means the guy that just jumped off the Golden Gate bridge is your responsibility. YOU can save his life." She gazed at him, adding, "That also means no more 'poor, pitiful me, I drew a lousy hand in life' shtick from you, bubka."

She brushed her hair back as he started to draw breath. "Look the way I figure it, life is like a poker game. We have two cards down, I have a jack showing, you have a four. I could have a flush, or crap. You could have a pair of fours; it's still early in the hand. We don't know yet, all we can do is play the cards." Leaning forward, she asked, "Unless you're going to fold?"

"I don't know yet. How often do the aliens try to invade?"

"Coward," she said with a grin. "On average, every four to six months, although this year they've been slow. Once so far this year, and they were just some little pissants with a couple light cruisers. Ooh, look at the suckers without a space navy, easy pickings." She snorted, "They didn't know Superman hangs his cape here. Oops. We'll leave the next one for you."

"ME?"

"Sure, you're a Green Lantern now. Maybe they'll actually be a challenge. Hell, play poker with them, it's worked before. I can see the banner headline in the Columbus newspaper, the Columbus …"

"… Dispatch."

"Dispatch, thanks. 'Columbus has GL now!' and 'Mystery teen saves runaway subway car!'"

"There's no subway in Columbus."

"Picky, picky. Next day's headline is something like, 'GL asked to solve council budget stalemate, refuses.'"

"What the hell would I know about the city council budget?"

"You're the Green Lantern, of course you'd know."

"Politicians are really that stupid? And just how many heroes do you know?"

She gazed at him cynically, then asking, "Including Potter?"

"Harry Potter? You've gotta be kidding."

"Nope, he's got all the signs. Think back to September, when Dumbledore introduced him. Every damned wizard in that room went ape, acted like he walked on water," Mattie said. "Same thing Superman gets when he walks into a room. What you'll have to understand is that the cape and spandex set are all just regular people with weird job descriptions."

Arthur shifted on the bench, as Mattie sat cross-legged on it. "Prove it," he said.

"Okay. I know a hero who leaves half-drunk coffee mugs all over the house; his wife gets hair caught in the drain, she also steals books and socks from relatives while they're reading them. Does that sound like anyone you know?" she asked.

"The wife sounds like my sister Elena, except for the socks. She steals shirts from Dad, and the husband sounds like my brother Henry. Who are they?"

"A couple more, two guys will bet on _anything_, including which side of the bread will fall butter-side-down. Another hero works as a photographer, another is a cartoonist. Another collects videotapes of commercials, and another works as a history teacher, that person's handwriting is worse than Snape's. Do they sound like regular people?"

"Yeah, who are they?"

"The coffee, or actually tea mug fellow is Harry Potter, the sock thief is Ginny. I got that from her twin brothers, by the way. They were amazed that the famous 'boy who lived' was a regular guy with the most god-awful pair of sneakers, sorry, trainers they'd ever seen." She chuckled, adding, "The two gamblers are Lantern and Flash. Plastic Man's an alcoholic, by the way. The photographer is Jade, you've met her, and the commercial collector is Superman. The cartoonist is Lantern. The teacher with the bad handwriting is Wonder Woman."

"Regular people?

"Tell you what, keep the weekend of the Fourth open; I'll see if I can get you an invite to Steel's blowout." Arthur raised his eyebrow, and Mattie said, "Every Fourth, he hosts a huge barbeque at his place in South Metropolis. Kids, pets, wives, husbands, and so forth of the cape and spandex crowd are invited. It's a great time; the cardinal rule is _no powers_, and I'll bet you can't identify the heroes in the crowd, not counting the four you know of."

"Four? How many have I met?"

Mattie counted on her fingers; then said, "Nine that I know of; are you up for it?"

"I'll let you know, but for now, what do you want to do about this?" and Arthur waved his hand.

Mattie met his gaze, and answered, "Your decision. You're Green Lantern."

* * *

On the way back to the compartment, Arthur stopped, asking, "Mattie? I don't know if I can handle this ring. Take it back, please." 

"What happens if I say no?"

"I use it to fly up to the moon, and kick Green Lantern's butt for the stupid idea of giving it to you. Then I give it back to him."

"I'm glad to see someone else agrees, but to be fair, it was my brother's dumb idea." Mattie grinned at his shocked expression, adding, "You thought I _wanted_ to wear a reusable antimatter bomb? I'll take it back, but I'm going to designate you as the ring's backup." She slid it back on her finger, adding, "Lanterns have been killed, you know." She looked at him, adding with a small smile, "Let's go see what these knuckleheads are up to."

"You go ahead; it's too crowded in there for me. I'm going to take a walk and think."

* * *

"That violates centuries of tradition!" Amanda shouted as they entered. 

"If those traditions are unfair? How does that help?" one of the twins countered.

Harry waved them in, saying, "We've decided to draft a Declaration, like what you Yanks did in 1776." He shook his head, saying theatrically, "Where did we go wrong? Now you blokes mis-spell words, drink coffee instead of a proper cup of tea and drive on the wrong side of the motorway."

"Looked a bit different on our side of the pond, there," Roshawn said.

Mattie asked Amanda, "What's centuries of tradition?"

"Five judges on a trial!"

"The problem is the court can be packed, Amanda," Shaundra said. "Fudge had arranged Malfoy's trial so he had three of the five judges in his pocket. When Dumbledore stepped down, it was three to one against Madame Bones. There was no way he could be convicted." She added, "My mom's a lawyer. What I'd suggest is one judge for misdemeanors, three for felony cases like murder, the Unforgivables, and so forth. Those judges are randomly drawn, and can only be changed with the judge's death or serious illness. That way, someone like Malfoy can still rig a trial, but it would be a lot more expensive for him to do that. He'd have to buy off something like ninety percent of the court, instead of the sixty percent he's got now." Her twin added, "Another thing I'd change is having court-appointed solicitors for both prosecution and defense."

"I'll agree with that," Harry said. "I mentioned using magic before a muggle in class, right? Fudge wanted to expel me from Hogwarts and snap my wand, but Dumbledore stepped in and saved my arse. I wonder how many people are in Azkaban because they couldn't defend themselves against a professional barrister."

"Werewolf rights," Sprink said. "When you're a werewolf, you lose a lot of your rights. You're automatically considered guilty if someone's been bitten, unless you're locked in a Ministry-approved cell with witnesses. Even if I were to bite someone now, outside the full moon, it would be considered a bite, and the odds are good that I'd be executed. After I reach majority at seventeen, I have to report to Ministry once a week for an interview and examination. That's all two hundred plus adult werewolves in Britain, and there's only four people working in werewolf control."

"Two, actually," Ginny said. "Budget cuts at the Ministry, there's longer hours and shorter staffing. They've gone to a six-day week, twelve hours a day for the same rate. My Dad comes home just exhausted every night, but the Aurors and DMLE got rises."

**_

* * *

Saturday, June 19, 1999:  
London, Kings Cross station, platform 9 3/4  
_**

* * *

Mattie asked, "Charlie, you have a computer at home? Do you mind receiving owl post from everyone?" He nodded, and she added, "Everyone, before you go, I'd just like you to look out for a present from my family to the wizards of Great Britain the morning of June 28th. I'll give Charlie my home email address; I'd like to hear what you think." 

Amanda asked, "What are you on about? What present?"

Mattie smiled, "It's to you Brits, and I think you'll like it. It's been something we've had and you've needed for a long time."

* * *

After giving the countersign to the Wayne staffer, Mattie asked, "I need to stop by the American embassy, please. I have a note from Mr. West asking for a short meeting." 

"Right-o, Miss Wayne, I'll call the airport and the jet from Grosvenor Square, then." He looked about, asking, "Only three trunks?"

* * *

In the embassy's reception area, Mattie smiled at the Marine, "I have a letter from Mr. West regarding my missing passport, and he wants a short meeting." She gave it to him; he looked it over, then picked up the phone and dialed. 

Mattie nodded her thanks to the escorting Marine, and smiled at Mr. West. The old attorney said, "Thank you, son. I'll escort Miss Wayne from here." As the Marine braced and departed, Mattie was ushered into his office.

"Now, Miss Wayne, I must say I was pleasantly surprised to get your thank-you note. All too often these days the niceties go unobserved," Mr. West said. "On to business, I understand that your passport has gone missing, courtesy of Minister Fudge?"

"Thank you, sir. My grandfather was British; he trained me well, sir," Mattie replied with a smile, adding, "My wand has also gone missing, sir."

"We'll get to that in a moment. First of all, we have a replacement passport for you; all it needs is your signature. I have taken the liberty of extending your academic visa as well as those of your companions, which is being handled as we speak." He offered her a pen, as she signed, he buzzed his secretary. As she closed the door behind her, he added, "She'll go and handle that for us, it should be ready in a few minutes. Now, as to your wand, I have discussed this with the Ambassador, and we are in agreement. We will issue you a wand, if Minister Fudge decides to confiscate it, he will explain why. If you would come with me, we need to see a fellow elsewhere."

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Hansen, this is Miss Doe, the young lady I spoke to you about," Mr. West said as he introduced the commercial attaché. "Miss Doe, please accompany Mr. Hansen, he will procure that item, and will escort you back to my office." He nodded, moving off. 

Mr. Hansen smiled, giving her a pass on a neck chain and asking, "Miss Doe, please place your thumbprint on the red square, and we can be off." As she did so, Mr. Hansen took another pass from his drawer, pulling it over his neck. Opening the door, he walked her to the elevator, fishing out his key ring as he walked.

"Place your pass in the slot, Miss Doe, and wait for the green light," Mr. Hansen said, nodding at the Marine in the bulletproof glass booth. She did so, and he followed as a fellow with an FBI windbreaker holding an inter-office envelope pushed through the exit. He then lead her down an underground corridor to a non-descript door with a number. He knocked; then moved his body to shield the code as he entered it in the lock.

"Miss Doe, this is Mr. Jones," Mr. Hansen said. "He needs to take some measurements, please accompany him. I'll wait for you here." Mr. Jones, a young fellow with a prominent Adam's apple, put down his Agency coffee mug, smiled, and beckoned for her to follow.

* * *

"Thank you, Mr. Hansen," Mr. Smith said. He smiled and nodded, holding her pass as he closed the attorney's door behind him. 

"Now then, Miss Wayne, there is your replacement passport, your friends have their visas extended, and you should get your item delivered to you in Gotham in a week or so. Given past history, we have also arranged for you and your colleagues to receive underage usage passes from the Department." He passed her an envelope with a Department of Education return address. "The envelope includes your letter of authorization as well as your pendant. Is there anything else that we can do for you?"

"Yes, sir, something has come up, and I was wondering if you had a Floo connection I could borrow. I need to make a quick visit to Gringott's, and my driver is a muggle."

"I believe we can handle that. Please come with me," Mr. Smith said. He led her down the corridor, pausing to have a word with the Marine on duty. "Now then, when you wish to return, our Floo address is 'US Embassy, Grosvenor Square'. The Marine will call an escort for you. I do hope you have a wonderful summer, and I look forward to seeing you again." He shook her hand, adding, "Are you planning on playing Quidditch again? I hope to get up to Scotland to see a game."

"I hope to, sir. Thank you again for all your help." Mattie waited until he had left, then took a bit of Floo powder, calling 'Gringott's London!' as she stepped into the flames.

**_

* * *

Saturday, June 19, 1999:  
London, Gringott's bank  
_**

* * *

Mattie dusted herself off, asking the receptionist, "Is Mr. Griplick available? I'm Mattie Wayne, he was expecting me today."

* * *

"Miss Wayne! So good to see you again," Mr. Griplick said. "Your new vault is ready; your funds have been transferred. All we need done is to introduce yourself to your dragon. Would you come with me, I do confess to a bit of curiosity."

* * *

As the cart followed its roller-coaster path, Mattie said, "Mr. Griplink, this must remain a secret between you and I. My brother, with the best intentions gave me this ring." She held on as the track veered over a bottomless chasm, then continued, "It's a very powerful device, it's capable of destroying planets, and I'm not ready for that. I can't return it, so I must store it somewhere secure. At home, it would be too tempting." 

"And you are trusting myself with this secret," Griplink mused.

"You and Gringott's," Mattie grinned, adding, "Do you understand the reason for the high security?"

"I do indeed," Griplink said. "Do you have a suitable duplicate ready?"

"No, I was hoping your transfiguration skills were better than mine. I tried with a few knuts, but the results weren't satisfactory." The cart braked in front of a vault; the head of a small Welsh Green dragon gazed at them, smoke drifting from its nostrils.

"We'll give it a go in a minute. Your new vault number is 1186, and your moneybag is realigned." He reached up, and patted the dragon's snout. "Let him give you a good sniff. After this visit, he will only allow access with the both of us together. If one of us is killed, the other must present the body to him to smell."

As Mattie stood on the platform, she asked, "What about the feeding crew?" She nervously patted the dragon's snout, as smoke curled around her.

"The dragons know that they are not allowed access to the vaults," he motioned to the large water trough. "They'll be eaten if they approach the vault doors." He asked the dragon, "Are you satisfied?" The dragon let out a small roar, and watched them. Griplink extracted a key on a chain from his pocket, handing it to Mattie. Taking another from around his neck, he said, "On three, turn clockwise. One, two, three!"

* * *

With a 'ding', the jet's seatbelt light went off, and one of the twins asked, "Okay, so what's the big surprise on the twenty-eighth, and why did you need to stop at the embassy?" 

"Fudge took my passport, I had to arrange for a replacement," Mattie said. "While I was there, I got an underage pass, you guys did too?"

The other twin said, "Yeah, and our visas were extended as well. Did you arrange that?"

Mattie shrugged, "I mentioned it to Mr. West when I wrote his thank-you letter. It saves you a trip to the consulate." She grinned, adding, "The present is something the British wizarding public needs: the First Amendment. Pass me my bag, would you?" Arthur stood, and passed Ian's old book bag to Mattie, she dug into it, adding, "These are galley proofs, courtesy of my Aunt Lois. This is what every wizarding household in Great Britain will be receiving, free." She pulled out copies, adding, "Ladies and gentleman, may I present The Reporter newspaper!"

**_

* * *

Monday, June 21, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office  
_**

* * *

"Ah, there you are, Cornelius, and with Lucius and Dolores also! Capital, I shan't have to repeat myself," Albus Dumbledore said as he moved further into the room, ignoring the hostile looks. He paused; conjuring a squashy armchair for himself when none was offered. "Now then, where was I? Oh, yes, students are safely in their homes, and another school year under our belts." 

"What do you want Dumbledore? We are in a meeting," Fudge said.

"Well, I shan't take up more than a minute or two. I bring an offer to the three of you from Mr. Wayne." Lucius snorted elegantly, and Albus smiled, "He suggests that the three of you clean your vaults of gold, snap your wands, and retire to someplace far from these shores. He suggested Palestine, Oman, or Belize, but I believe he would be satisfied with other locations as well."

Dolores Umbridge tittered, and Lucius raised an eyebrow. Cornelius snorted, "What does he offer in exchange for this most _generous_ offer?"

"He offers your lives and fortunes, Cornelius."

"Why should we take this fool up on his offer?"

"The same fool whose daughter you kidnapped and tortured, Cornelius?" Albus shook his head, adding, "They are being generous; I suggest you accept their offer."

Lucius sneered, "Then they are fools."

"I think not, Lucius," Albus said. "Please remember that you are warring with a man whose wealth far exceeds your own, who has the ear of Presidents and Queens, who holds life-debts for some of the most powerful people in the world." He gazed at them, adding, "A man whose _daughter_ you have put in danger, and whose legal status you, Cornelius, continue to play like a fish on a line. Do you not understand the primal urge to protect the young? This is the same urge that causes parents to risk their very lives to protect their young, and you threaten this man on a very deep, personal level." He gazed at them, "Your continual attempts at greater levels of Danegeld, Cornelius, while threatening his daughter's safety, is beyond crass, it is obscene. Once again, I advise you to accept his offer. It will remain open until five pm London time on Friday the twenty-fifth. You may contact me to accept."

"And if we choose not to accept?" Fudge asked.

"Then I would be remiss if I did not remind you that a great many people are not pleased with the way you run the Ministry as your own personal fiefdom. They are not pleased with your practice of imprisoning your opponents, or their families, to suit your own political ends. I would call upon you to study what happens to societies and regimes that do so. Finally, I would mention that while Mr. Wayne has forsworn murder, not all of your opponents have."

The three traded looks, and burst out laughing. Albus Dumbledore arose, banishing his chair and moving to the door. He added, "I said I would make the attempt, and I have done so. Good day."

30


End file.
